Trampled
by GeminiGemelo
Summary: Well, I suppose the stampede was technically meant for his brother... There's just, I don't know, one small problem with that: the cub died instead. *50K hits*
1. Long Live the King

**_A/N: _**

_EDIT: Hello, and welcome... to whichever dear reader has presumably clicked this title from amongst the gigantic selection of existing TLK fanfics... There isn't much else to say here, is there? I suppose I'll keep this note short. Wouldn't want to keep you from reading too long, now, would I? _

_You have just entered a seperate, distinct universe borne from the original TLK, now to be contained in an unassuming fanfiction piece. Herein lies my most popular work yet, and something that I am, to this point, satisfied with. Within is drama, action, and plenty of suspense... or so I've been told._

_Two quick notes of thanks come here. One goes to __**readsmanyfavsfew**__, who, in his words, "provided the spark" which I apparently turned "into a roaring fire". He was the one who originally suggested that I write a fic about Simba dying in the stampede instead of Mufasa, which I took and later transformed into something of my own. Thanks for all your support throughout my time here on FFn. (:_

_Secondly, if you would like to know a little bit more about what you are getting into, I implore you to watch the Youtube trailer for this work, courtesy of one of my loyal readers, __**TheTrueJuliet. **__The link is on my profile page. Many thanks, TTJ! (:_

_Well, I suppose this should come without any more ado. On with the story. I truly hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. :)_

* * *

><p>"Long live the king…"<p>

It was only a sentence, and rather a small one at that, but for Scar—oh, it was so much more than that. The dark lion laid coolly across the rocky edge of the gorge, his hated older brother hanging precariously in his clutches, over the dark swarm of panicked wildebeests, watching his face contort with fear as he uttered those words.

_He won't make it out alive,_ Scar mused, looking at the ragtag band of sweaty, terrified gnu which had acted as living bulldozers, trampling everything that dared to come into their paths. It wasn't malice that would cause them to trample their king, only flighty and uncontrolled instincts. Every animal had them, after all. Especially prey animals. Scar felt the need to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do; for the murder he was about to commit. It wasn't hard. In fact, it was harder for him to keep the giddy tone out of his voice. He felt like a small child getting just what he wanted. Finally. It had taken long enough as it was.

But Mufasa was stupid. He couldn't have seen this coming a million miles away. The dark lion indifferently flicked his tail. After all these years, Scar had thought he'd made himself clear. He wanted the throne. And yet it was all too easy to get his thick brother to the precipitous point of falling, both literally and figuratively, out of power. And yet the soon-to-be-murderer waited, listening for something. There was more than one piece to this puzzle. Because, of course, Mufasa had a son.

That was when he heard the scream.

"Dad! Dad! Help me! Please!"

The cub. He was still alive, fighting his way through the bands of sharp hooves and kicking, crazed animals. He wouldn't last long; not on his own. Scar watched as the son of his enemy zigzagged across the gorge, trying to scrabble up the edge of the cliff and take shelter behind rocks and trees, failing miserably each and every time.

"No, Scar. Don't do this. You _have _to let me save him. _You have to let me save my son_."

His could actually hear a pleading tone in his brother's voice, which was odd. Normally, if someone had something he wanted, he just beat the crap out of them. It was easy for him, with those thick, rippling muscles and solid form. But when he looked at his brother, he could almost see an expression he had seen a million times before. The hysterical countenance of a helpless prey animal, when it knew that it was about to lose its life.

For some strange reason, it had the opposite effect on Scar. It provoked something deep in his blood; a side of him that wanted to kill and maim and torture for his revenge. Sweet payback. The captor lion threw his head up, only a sadistic laugh answering his brother's desperate pleas. He almost couldn't control himself, nearly beginning to roll around with an undoubtedly sick, but pleasurable, feeling of joy coursing through his lithe body. He would watch his brother suffer. And enjoy every moment of it.

And so he held him there, the claws he had so painstakingly sharpened day after day serving perfectly to pin Mufasa, a lion easily twice as big, in place as the chaos in the gorge reached its rather bloody climax.

"Dad, they're getting closer!"

Mufasa watched with horror as his little son tried to escape the inevitable. Finally it seemed to have worked, the cub's small body being kicked halfway across the gorge by a particularly frightened wildebeest.

_It's about time,_ Scar thought pessimistically. Once the cub was dead, he could throw in Mufasa and be done with all of them for good. The train of wildebeest streaming down the gorge was long, but it wasn't endless. Mufasa might survive an ordinary fall from this height, and if he dropped him now, he would no doubt go to save his son. In either case, one of them would probably live. Battered and bruised, yes, but dead, no. And dead was what Scar wanted. There were less loose ends that way.

He almost threw up his paws then and there, but something golden flickered out of the corner of his eye, causing him to turn and look with a certain air of curiosity.

"Dad, dad! Help!"

Curses. The stupid cub wasn't dead yet.

"Simba, I'll save you! I'm coming!" The older lion yelled desperately as he gazed upon his struggling son, trying in a frenzied panic to free his sweat-caked paws. Simba had seconds, perhaps a minute, to live at this rate. And Scar knew it.

"Temper, temper," Scar started with a gentle _tsk _of his tongue, his voice dangerously calm, "why don't you just stay here and watch the show, hmm, _brother_? I believe we are getting to the good part."

"No, little brother, please. Don't do this. You're not a murderer."

Scar turned his head away from him indifferently, lazily scratching a particularly itchy spot on his neck with his clawed hind foot. Just waiting for his chance to toss his brother away from his presence.

"And how do you know I'm not, Mufasa?"

The older lion looked disgusted at his brother's indifference.

"My son, _**YOUR NEPHEW**_, is down there. Just think of what could happen. Just think of what you're doing. You're murdering an innocent…" Mufasa continued, his voice slowly being lathered into a rage. That's what Scar had been waiting for. The self-righteous, arrogant rage that always hid under his brother's seemingly benevolent presence. Oh, of course none of his subjects saw it, only ever seeing the polished, happy, false image of him on those rare occasions when the whole kingdom had to gather below Pride Rock. And of course he usually kept his cool around the lionesses, trying to impress them with how strong and awesome he was. But that never fooled Scar, who sat patiently, bearing the brunt of his brother's outraged and somewhat repetitive discourse.

"…LET ME GO! SIMBA! SIMBA! I WILL SAVE YOU! SCAR, LET ME G—"

"DAD! HELP ME! I CAN'T RUN MUCH LONGE—"

That was it. A slight snap and the screaming stopped. Scar looked into the gorge, distantly checking to make sure the cub was dead. He was. Unless, of course, he could miraculously survive after his neck had been crushed like a twig by the full force of a half-ton wildebeest.

The dark younger lion took a final look down at Mufasa before he threw him off, smirking as he contemplated his brother, whose emotions were obviously in a matted, fiery tangle. Sad. Outraged. And, most of all, appalled. Once more, he began to struggle, trying to loosen Scar's grip.

If he freed himself from Scar's grasp and found his way onto the ledge, then he would be in a world of hurt. After all, he had just killed his only son. But he wouldn't let him get that far. It was over. Time to murder the father.

"Ahhhh, brother. I'd love to keep chatting, but I've got a kingdom to rule. Your kingdom. And so now I bid you… _adieu_."

And there it was. The moment he'd been waiting for all his life. He felt his brother's paws fall away from his as he flung him across the air, splaying his toes and sheathing his claws to allow Mufasa to slip out from under him. No part of him felt guilty or sympathetic as the hated being gradually plummeted into seeming oblivion, clawing at the air, looking for a safe refuge that didn't exist as he tumbled backwards into the gorge, looking up at Scar with sad, broken eyes as he descended towards death.

But there was a problem. The large herd of wildebeests had, like his worst fears had predicted, approached its end more quickly than he thought. Scar looked out across the herd of animals, then back, all the way to the end of the gorge. He could just spot the handful of quick wildebeests at the front of the stampede, who were a long ways down the canyon and were already beginning to slow down.

No. NO. _**NO**_!

_The herd is supposed to be larger than that! Why isn't it? Where are the other animals?_

Scar began to panic, his usual cool composure and relaxed, indifferent attitude being assaulted upon by the tendrils of a thick, distracting aura of alarm. Mufasa could not live.

And yet, there they were. The wildebeests. Running up at the lip of the cliff like total imbeciles. Instead of joining the bandwagon like they should have, when the wildebeests had run off the grassy plain that they had started from and down into the ravine, they had run off to either side of it. The sound of thundering hooves was now apparent above Scar and across the other side of the chasm as more and more of them streamed by.

He had chosen the largest herd in the area for the very event the day before, but now a significant portion of it wasn't even in the same place as Mufasa was. And that portion, Scar could now see with dismay, would probably end up being the difference between Mufasa's life and Mufasa's death.

In the end, the lion fell all the way to the ground, a sickening thud reverberating throughout the gulch as he impacted with the dusty ground. Perhaps he had broken a few bones, but there didn't appear to be any serious injury to his brother's body. A somewhat sharp cry was heard, and a few moans and groans followed, but he wasn't subsequently destroyed and mowed over by the wildebeests like he should have been. In fact, only about ten or so of the animals actually reached Mufasa's injured figure, most of them nimble enough to dodge their fallen king.

Scar watched in sweaty, heart-pounding horror as his plan flopped over on its face. His scraggly form quickly hid behind a rock, trying to get out of view of his brother, who was already rolling over on the ground in an attempt to get to his feet.

_Oh god, _Scar thought, visibly quavering in fear, _he's going to kill me. And… what if the lionesses find out? I'm dead. Irreversibly, irreparably _dead.

For several moments he was paralyzed with fear as Mufasa tiredly got to his feet, half-walking and half-crawling over towards his son. The lion looked at the cub's chest, searching for the rising and falling of breathing as he listened for a heartbeat.

No sign of either. He unsheathed his claws, and Scar watched in terror as he began batting the ground angrily and with all of the strength he possessed. Which was a lot. The dark lion again crawled behind a jagged-edged boulder.

_I'm next._

Mufasa roared, effectively terrorizing his hidden brother, who keeled over from the ear-splitting noise, trying desperately to cover his ears, crawling blindly away from the din. Eventually Mufasa stopped, slumping over onto his side weakly, still somewhat injured from the fall. He held his son's small form in his paw, talking to it as—wait, what? Was Mufasa… _crying_?

It was then that Scar relapsed into his usual pragmatic sense of logic. Every problem had a solution, whether he wanted to face it or not. And if he didn't have the guts to kill a sniveling, injured, crying lion, then he truly was a coward. He had hoped that he wouldn't have to actually, _literally_ get Mufasa's blood on his paws—despite his somewhat violent nature, he hated having to fight himself, preferring to do everything sneakily and with wit.

_But, _Scar thought as he unsheathed his claws once more, _every problem _does _have a solution_. _I just have to kill him myself. That throne will only be mine after my brother's death._

Slowly, and trying to stay out of Mufasa's field of view, he crept down the steep side of the ravine and towards the center of the ravine which hung in between the walls. Closer and closer…

"Brother, I know you're there. If you want that throne, just… go ahead and kill me. You've already taken my son," Mufasa sobbed dramatically.

"Oh, _of course_. Whatever makes you happy, Mufasa."

Scar's tail flickered with malicious arrogance. His brother was going to _let him kill him_. If that wasn't just the most adorable thing he'd ever heard, the dark lion sneered to himself. He brought up his paw, prepared to bring it down on his brother, who sat still, ready to take the blow as his head hung in shame.

"Oh no! King Mufasa, Scar, what's wrong with Simba? He isn't moving!"

A creamy lioness cub appeared from somewhere across the gorge, the two lions, in unison, being scared witless.

"Uh, nothing Nala," Mufasa started, voice cracking slightly.

"Yes, yes, just nothing. He's sleeping. We two adults here are _trying_ to have a conversation," Scar continued with a deep growl directed at Mufasa. Since Nala, who was Simba's best friend at the time, was still quite young and gullible, she hardly asked any questions. She must have just arrived at the scene, not seeing Simba get trampled to death or getting killed herself.

But that was, of course, a problem. He couldn't kill Mufasa now; not with the cub. And while he could physically kill the cub with ease, he knew immediately that it wasn't a good idea. Her mother, Sarafina, would no doubt be following close behind to find her. No one just _let_ cubs that young wander into a dangerous gorge by themselves. Taking a quick sniff of the air, he confirmed his worst suspicions. He was too late. If he killed Mufasa now, there would be witnesses, and being known as a murderer would not get him the throne. In fact, it would only get him his throat ripped out by an angry lioness.

_Run._

That was the only thought that filled Scar's mind now. Mufasa would tell them what had happened, of course, and then the whole pride would be hot on his trail. He could find refuge in the elephant graveyard, with the hyenas. He knew them personally, though he doubted they would be happy with him. But none of that mattered now. Looking at Mufasa, then back at Nala, he turned tail and ran, without another word, out of the chasm, an angry chorus of roars sounding behind him.

_Mufasa still lives._

* * *

><p><em>I thought it would be more interesting if Mufasa knew Scar wanted to kill him. More drama and whatnot. <em>

_Oh, and one more thing. Below your idle cursor is a button that says "Review this Chapter". If you click it, several rainbows will suddenly sprout out of your computer, and you will also get a magic unicorn._

_...Okay, maybe not, but you'll still make me very happy if you hit the button, so do it anyways. Thanks. (:_

_-The elusive Twin has now left, perhaps to be sighted next chapter... ;)_


	2. The Godmother

_**A/N:** Welcome back to Chapter 2, and thanks to all of you who reviewed. *coughcough* Sorry, allergies._

_**readsmanyfavsfew: **Wow, glad that you think I wrote your idea satisfactorily. Your review totally made my day (: Didn't think it would be good enough to make the 2% of TLK fanfics you favorite, lol. ;)_

_**ArizonaSivy: **Aww, sorry. Nala's a pest, isn't she? :S But I couldn't have had Scar kill Mufasa, because then there wouldn't be a story. lol_

_**DinozzoJr: **Thanks, lol. Here ya go. _

_**Mom: **Thanks for reviewing. :p_

_**IronicSnap: **I find AUs interesting and am glad I get to write a good one. Thanks so much for the review; maybe this fic will actually turn out good after all. :)_

_**Kblade: **Thank you! Nice to know I have loyal readers. (;_

_**Reldor: **Your comment made me laugh out loud, haha! And since you insist, here is your unicorn: http : / / www . youtube .com/watch?v=CsGYh8AacgY )_

_EDIT: Soundtrack Ideas: (Matrix Soundtrack, "Clubbed to Death", or Inception Soundtrack, "One Simple Idea")_

* * *

><p>"Whoa whoa whoa, wait, wait… <em>what<em>? You _failed_?"

"It sounds worse than it really is, I can assure you."

The matriarch of the hyenas sat there with an irritated expression on her face, carelessly flicking away the bone she had been chewing on for the past five minutes, the white, polished clean surface glinting dully in the shadowed darkness as it landed on the floor with a hollow _cli-click_, further adding to the trashy, unkempt appearance of the cave. Silence.

Scar shuffled his feet idly; somewhat nervous as she sat there quietly, staring at him with a rather disconcerting calmness. It almost appeared as though she was trying to make him burst into flames just by looking at him, the simple _explain-everything-to-me-now-or-else _look telling the older lion that he had better comply. Immediately. Because Shenzi was angry, and when Shenzi was angry, she got her way.

"I got rid of the cub."

The kingpin of what was essentially a hyena mafia snapped her fingers, an annoyed grimace crossing her face. Instantly, two hyenas appeared on the scene, seeming to come from nowhere; or perhaps somewhere behind a tunnel bore into the rock. Each was holding a thick, bloody shank of meat. Fresh meat. Scar salivated inwardly, eyes now attached hopefully to the dripping, blood-coated flesh. The two hyenas respectfully placed both slabs of food onto the small boulder which lay in between Scar and the matriarch. The lion's stomach seemed to twist into a knot and he cringed in hunger, though he tried to keep an indifferent expression on his face in the presence of the hyenas. Maybe convincing them that he was strong and confident would help his case, whereupon they could easily devise another plan to destroy his brother and make him king.

"The cub? What good does that do us?"

A male hyena quickly responded, tail twitching irritably as he stood next to the matriarch, who was obviously not amused.

"Banzai's right. You know he'll just make more of those things, don't ya? We're talking about the royal couple here; they need an heir. Give it a year and you'll be stuck back at square one."

"And with nothing left to give us! …right, Shenzi?"

"Exactly! Very good."

The kingpin smiled with a false, sarcastic enthusiasm; delicately, Shenzi picked up one of the shanks of meat, idly dangling it from in between her fingers before dropping it to her side, letting Banzai ravenously dig into it, before picking up the other and starting into it herself. The lion's eyes narrowed slightly, not taking very well to the idea of being made sport of.

"Just don't you forget who you're working for…"

"Or who we _were _working for!" Banzai sneered in between a mouthful of food, instantly bursting out into a pang of mean-spirited laughter which found him tightly clutching his stomach as he rolled breathlessly around on the floor.

"Wait… _what_?"

"You heard him, din't ya, Scar?"

_No, not them, too... _Scar panicked quietly. The hyenas were supposed to be there to help him. Now what would he do without them? For once, he was rash enough to act quickly on his first impulse.

"No, ingrates, you can't do this to me. I won't let you."

Scar bared his teeth threateningly at the matriarch, perhaps not the best move for someone who wasn't even king yet. Or for anyone, in that case, though Scar hadn't quite thought his response through. Before he could blink, four hyenas had materialized—seemingly from nowhere—and had him pinned helplessly on his back. He growled reflexively and out of surprise, but couldn't do much, only being able to see the high, rocky ceiling of the cave and the hyenas who were glaring down at him calmly.

"Oh, Scar. Always the same thing with you. Now, we can do this one of two ways," the young female started, grinning ruefully at him despite the fact he couldn't see her, "…we can put ya down where you lie, or you can be a good boy and we can talk this over. Whaddya say?

"…Fine…"

"Let 'im up."

At the bidding of their leader, the four new hyenas got off of him without a sound, standing by and surrounding him stoically. Scar tried not to show the fear that was steadily growing within him; staring at the hyenas who had now surrounded him, however, was not helping very much. Their tough, soldier-like figures were ready to kill him if Shenzi demanded it, yet in the meantime they were crowding around him closely enough to resemble bodyguards.

"Give me another chance… just one. I will do better."

He almost couldn't believe he was pleading like this. It was pathetic—almost as much as his brother's begging had been—and the hyenas, as usual, were unmoved. Banzai glared at him, now finished with the shank of meat that Shenzi had given him and visibly contemplating what to do with the bones that were left over.

"And why should we, huh?" he stated curtly, unable to suppress the sharp edge of arrogance that cut into his voice.

"Hush, Banzai," the matriarch began, shooting an angry glance at her companion before continuing, "…oh, Scar. You told us of the stampede, which seemed like a fool-proof plan. What's ta say ya won't fail another time, especially now that you're on the run? I doubt Mufasa will fall for anything now that he knows his brother is out to kill 'im."

_But he said he _wanted_ me to kill him_, Scar thought in despair, though he said nothing in consideration of what would happen to him if he interrupted. Besides, they seemed pretty certain of their choice, anyways. He would have to find someone else to help him; the hyenas clearly weren't going to cooperate at this point.

"Speaking of promises," Shenzi continued, examining her claws idly.

_Oh dear._

"I do believe, Scar, that ya had a few things of… _value_… to us that you promised for our help. Could you remind me what they were, please? I seem ta have forgotten…"

Scar visibly cringed, something in her voice telling him that he was being threatened, even if she didn't explicitly say so. She hadn't really forgotten, of course; the hyenas would never forget their dues. _I have gotten myself into something now…_ Scar thought impatiently, realizing he had more or less painted himself into a corner. He hadn't really thought about what he'd promised the hyenas before, and had more or less disregarded it, having proceeded with the arrogant confidence that he would succeed in killing both his brother and nephew, and would be able to pay them back. That turned out well. He'd taken a wild gamble, and was now stuck with the bill; a price he was unprepared to pay.

"Uh…" he started, chuckling nervously as he tried to remember exactly what it was. Before, of course, the true direness of the situation came to him.

_…'Stick with me, and you'll never go hungry again!' _

'_YEAH!' 'All right!' 'Long live the king!' __**'Long live the king! Long live the king…!'**_

…_I'm screwed…_

"Now look, Scar. We hyenas are reasonable…"

_Liars. _

"… and we understand ya won't be able ta grant us access to the Pridelands," the matriarch continued softly, an expression of sympathy—obviously fake, but attempted nonetheless—written across her face before she continued, a little bit more impatiently, "but you still owe this family… what was it, Banzai? Oh yes," she said quickly, face dropping and resuming all of its brutish seriousness, "meat. For all of us."

"Whoa, hold on. I said that I'd give it to you once I became king."

Scar was somewhat desperate at this point: where on earth was he going to get all that? There was no way…

"No, no, no… you said, 'stick with me, and you'll never go hungry again'. We stuck with you, and offered our support. _You _were the one who failed. So, where's _our_ share?"

Shenzi only smiled lightly, chuckling at Banzai's impudence as he interrupted for the fifth time.

"Ah, Banzai. Ya catch on quick, don'tcha?"

"I'm afraid I can't deliver. I don't know where I'm going to get all th—"

"—where ya get it is none of my concern. Just pay up and we'll get along fine…" she sighed hopelessly, almost nostalgically, "…look, Scar, I like ya. A lot. So I'm gonna give ya a whole week to make the delivery."

_A week! What? How do they expect me to—?_

"Of course," Banzai piped up, snapping Scar out of his thoughts, "we accept extra favors. Gifts can't possibly hurt."

"And what happens if I don't pay?"

Scar hardly even bothered to ask; he knew it couldn't be anything good and that he wouldn't have much choice in the matter. But he found the words slipping out of his mouth before he could even catch them, and braced himself for the reply.

"Oh, nothing, dear. Nothing at all. But we won't worry 'bout that, now, will we? 'Cause you'll be a good old lion and give us what you owe, _right_?"

Her words may have seemed harmless, though Scar caught a faint glint of threatening foreshadowing in her eyes, and he could tell she was lying, a fact she hardly bothered to conceal. It was enough to instill a thick, hopeless feeling of dread, even in him. The hyena subsequently drew her claws across the boulder, sharpening them into dagger-like points as the screech of her nails on the rock echoed terrifyingly throughout the cave. It was a clear warning. _Pay us_, _**or else**_.

"Y-Yes, I will."

"Good. I knew we'd see eye to eye," Shenzi continued dully, her attention now consumed in studying the bone that was left over from the slab of meat, which she had stripped clean. After several silent moments, she flung it carelessly onto the ground.

_Cli-click._

"Now get out."

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_**SARABI**__!"_

Mufasa roared in anguish, voice booming out through the cavernous gorge as he called to his mate. Simba's own mother, and his queen... _Oh no, _Mufasa thought in a panic, _I'm partially responsible for this. I could have stopped it. I could ha—_

"King Mufasa? How is Simba still asleep?" Nala pointed out timidly, her small, trembling body creeping closer to him, "I don't understand. I always wake up when people yell at me."

Nala sat quietly in the gorge, looking at Mufasa with little more than innocent curiosity, but he didn't bother to answer. How could she know what death was, even when she'd lost her one true friend? The one she was betrothed to? Mufasa knew she had been going to be queen with Simba, but she had had no idea. And what of that now? He couldn't even imagine having another cub, having to teach it everything… all over again. Going to show this new cub the kingdom; sitting on top of Pride Rock and explaining its destiny. The one that was going to be Simba's.

It wouldn't be the same. But he was obligated to. The whole kingdom would need him to provide the future king of the land. And it wouldn't be Simba… not anymore.

"_**SARABI**__!"_

He roared again, waiting for the lioness to appear in the gorge. Just how sad and angry would she be at the preventable loss of her son? He hadn't even considered going to find her, his grieved mind working too slowly to realize that she probably didn't hear him. All he knew was that he didn't want to leave the little cub that he was now cuddling desperately in his arms, as if trying to get him to wake up, though the cub's now cold, limp form made no signs of coming back to life. He was wasting his time hugging a dead body, but didn't really think about it too closely.

'_Dad… we'll always be pals, right?'_

That was what Simba had said only days before. _I never would have thought he'd die first, _Mufasa reflected sadly, his own mind torturing him with rapid flashbacks of him and Simba. Simba waking him up. Simba being shown the kingdom. Simba being saved from the hyenas. Simba and Nala playing. Simba being lifted up by Rafiki, his frail, golden body being presented to the kingdom.

But that one of him under the stars stuck out to him the most. Why?

And then it hit him.

'_Dad… we will always be friends, won't we?' _

'_Yes, of course, Muffy. But let me tell you and Taka something which my father told me…"_

_Simba was murdered. By my own brother…_

Mufasa sat up now, head hung in shame as a tear found its way down his cheek and into Simba's cool fur. He wasn't sure exactly what he was ashamed of. Probably the fact that the royal family now contained a murderer. A murderer of innocent cubs. Nephews, even. The golden lion now realized the fact that, despite his efforts throughout their years together, Scar had never fully understood or recognized family ties. All those years he had looked after his younger brother as though he was a son, and all it had gotten him in return was his attempted murder and a trampled heir.

He couldn't understand. The older lion had thought they were close, and that everything was perfectly well in between them. Scar's use of dark, foreshadowing sarcasm had only come across as a joke… until now, when Mufasa realized just how dangerously unreasonable his little brother's mindset really had become.

_Scar can't be allowed back into the Pridelands… It's for the good of the pride._

He couldn't let more innocent cubs die; more blood would not be spilled over the crown. And, of course, Mufasa knew his own life and title was in considerable danger. The pride would know the truth of Simba's murder, and if that meant they had to hunt Scar down… then so be it.

He had to make sure his brother would never return… whatever it took.

* * *

><p><em>The hyenas may have seemed a little OOC in this chapter. This is actually a very slight homage to Kovukono's hilarious story, "King Scar, You So Crazy", in which the hyenas are essentially a mafia. However, the general idea is the only thing I borrowed: the events surrounding it, character names, etc, are either my own or Disney's.<em>

_Before I disappear again, I should mention that there's possibly maybe sort of another one shot roaming around. Maybe it's written by me. *shrug* _

_Anyways, it's called Exile. Go read it. *hands ArizonaSivy, Kblade, and IronicSnap cookies*. And no, don't say it isn't fair, because they already reviewed. *hinthinthint*_

_See you next chapter, Twin :S_


	3. The Hunt's Afoot!

_**A/N: **_

_Hey everyone. I've got quite a bit to say so I'll just start off replying to reviews. ;)_

_**Mom: **Thanks, that's just what I was going for. :D_

_**Seph4evr: **lol glad you liked how I did that. Hope you like this chapter too. :D_

_**IronicSnap: ***hands more cookies* Ahhhh, yes. Dramaaaa. :D *rubs hands together evilly* _

_**KShara Khan: **Thank you! I suppose you'll find out this chapter :D Glad you liked the reference too, lol. That fic was hilarious. /33_

_**kate: **Here it is! :D_

_**Reldor: **Your comment made me laugh, as always. :D *hi5*_

_**readsmanyfavsfew: **Glad you liked the shift in the hyenas, and it's good to know someone got Banzai's joke. lol xD_

_Okay, so here is Chapter 3. Before I begin, I'd like to say that Exile still only has 4 reviews, and that's making me depressed. *hinthinthint*_

_And I notice I've been getting a pretty steady 7 reviews per chapter on this story, which gives me 14. Instigation, my other story, has 22 reviews at the moment. Let's see if you guys can beat it, lol. ;)_

_But other than asking you (and presumably annoying you) for more reviews on my stories, I'd also like to say that I'm going to start two new fics soon. One was an idea sent to me by someone on this site about two weeks ago. Since I'm already three chapters into this, I will start on it very soon; expect it up asap. Another I will begin writing probably on Friday, but I may not publish it on here until I've written a significant amount; stay tuned._

_Instigation also has Chapter 16(?) up, for those of you following that. First several chapters are going to get a re-write soon. First chapter is partway done already. ;)_

_Now on with the story._

* * *

><p>Mufasa walked up the ledge leading to his home, head hung in shame, Simba's body hanging delicately from his mouth as he approached the pride with the remains of their prince. Sarafina had found her cub in the gorge, and she now walked alongside him, crying, wiping her head on Mufasa's shoulder to clear away the thick film of tears. She held Nala with equal care, the scruff of the cub's neck in her mouth, her small form still trembling slightly with the knowledge that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.<p>

Finally the two of them made it to the base of Pride Rock, several lions now being visible in their line of sight. Sarafina could see, even through foggy eyes, the collection of barely-suppressed gasps emitted from several of the lionesses, as well as the horrified and shocked expressions on their faces as their mouths hung open in dumbfounded confusion.

"Nala, sweetheart, why don't you go on up to the sleeping caves and rest? Mommy will be there in a minute."

"B-b-but Mom—"

"—_Go_."

Sarafina set her whimpering cub on the ground, and Mufasa watched with sorrow as Nala obediently sulked over to the dark recesses of Pride Rock, where several members of the pride were no doubt sleeping. He stopped and set his own cub on the ground, but Simba didn't take off running and leaping playfully across the boulders. Tears began welling up in his eyes as he gazed upon what looked like his son, except for the snapped neck and the pained, distressed expression which had taken over his happy, carefree countenance. The older lion looked up, and the first living being he caught sight of… was Sarabi.

His mate stood there for a moment, in disbelief, crawling closer, trying to check if her vision was failing or if she really was beholding what she thought she was…

Sudden realization crossed her face, and in a moment's time she had crumbled to her knees, tears and sobs streaming down her face, screaming loudly. Pleading something, wishing and hoping that it couldn't really be her son; that it was some other cub that had been killed instead.

Mufasa grimly picked up Simba in his jaws, padding forwards, one humble step in front of the other until he reached her shaking, curled up body. She began wailing, her normally calm demeanor taking on an edge of anger and desperation as she whined in the gentle but unforgiving darkness.

"Simba… Simba, no. Take me with you. Take me with you, son. I can't live without you. Don't go. Don't go, please, don't go."

"Sarabi, it's me."

"W-w-what happened?" she sniffed, glancing upwards into Mufasa's eyes for the first time, "please tell me what happened to my poor little cub."

She continued to lie in the muddy ground, still looking up vaguely at her mate, though her attention seemed to be nowhere in particular, her eyes glazing over slightly from the stinging wetness. It was as though the real Sarabi was somewhere else. Somewhere, _anywhere_, other than right here, right now. The older lioness gritted her teeth, preparing for the answer.

"Stampede. In the gorge… My broth—Scar… he killed him. And he tried to kill me."

The lioness's face contorted slightly in shock, the tears momentarily stopping their course down her cheeks and face as she gasped inwardly, her eyes now focused on her son. In a moment she had flipped over onto her feet, standing up and pacing repetitively as she bore her teeth in red-hot anger.

"_**HE **_did this? No, _no_! He… couldn't have!"

"Yes, he did. I don't want it to be true but… it is. He's still alive out there, somewhere. I didn't kill him, but now I realize that… I should have."

She turned away from her mate, no longer pacing but closing her eyes in a distressed grimace, not saying a word. Mufasa couldn't quite tell whether she was crying, growling, or thinking about something. But the silence was simply too long. He placed one of his large, fluffy paws gently on her shoulder, and softly tried to calm Sarabi with the worst words possible.

"I know how you feel."

There was an awkward pause as she glared back up at him, the pain now visible in her eyes as she finally started to scream and roar back at him, outraged.

"How could you _possibly _know how I feel?" Sarabi snapped with a vicious growl, clearly directed at him, "_How_?"

"What do you mean?" Mufasa countered, beginning to feel a bit defensive, and hurt, and angry… "He was my son, too."

"All he was to you was the next to the throne, and you know it," she snapped at him, before pausing for a moment, considering her next words, "…I remember you saying you didn't even want to have cubs."

The lioness began to skulk away, but Mufasa defensively leapt in front of her and turned towards her shaking form, blocking any forward motion, rage clearly etched into his features. She took a step backwards and whirled around, trying to ignore him so that she could escape. But he wouldn't let it end there. He roared, a pained sound booming from his throat, causing his mate to nearly leap out of her skin in surprise before she froze solidly in place, having been forced to grudgingly acknowledge his presence.

"How could you say that, you blind fool?" the golden lion practically screamed at his mate, letting his fury get the better of him as Sarabi flinched slightly under the threat present in his voice, before baring her teeth and summoning up her courage, "he was more to me than that, and he knew it—!"

"—But you never could have loved him as much as I did," she spat back intensely, "because I _always_ wanted him. I gave birth to him, I nursed him, I loved him, and I taught him almost everything he knew. But he got killed by _your_ brother, who I never wanted anything to do with. And _you_… you did nothing! You let him _get away with it_!" She turned for the last time and stormed off, purposely walking right past her mate, forcefully nudging him out of the way with her shoulder before she sped into a run, sobs once again beginning to reverberate throughout her sweaty, gasping body as they threatened to send her plummeting to the ground in despair.

Mufasa stood there, now stunned and deeply ashamed of himself, especially at how he had yelled at his own mate—just when she had needed him most.

_Look what you did, _he thought as he watched her run off into the distance, screaming loudly in agony, _you could have stopped this, but you didn't. You almost let your own life be taken because you couldn't deal with the pain. You would have abandoned your own mate, and you didn't save your son. You didn't kill or even remember to exile the one responsible._

_You are completely to blame._

It was all his fault, though he didn't know what he should do about it now. What he _could _do about it. It was too late to really fix anything at all.

"Don't think this isn't hard on me either," he whispered timidly to himself, trying to hold back the regretful tears that coated his eyes. The king simply stayed there for a moment, rocking back and forth slightly on his feet, beginning to sob as he remained standing to Simba's body. "My own flesh-and-blood betrayed me. You don't think that his actions are just as painful—just as hard—on me as they are for you? He was closer to me than anyone ever was… or so I thought," he reflected in idle sadness, looking down at the ground beneath his paws in broken defeat.

He'd also thought he was alone. But he wasn't. Someone had overheard him.

"I should go talk to her…" a small, feminine voice interjected behind him, a few sobs cracking through the normally firm voice.

It was then that Sarafina came up, seemingly from nowhere, having quietly observed the exchange of words between Mufasa and his mate. The creamy lioness had been there the whole time. He hadn't even noticed.

"No, don't. I think she needs some time alone. And… so do I…"

* -.,ice,.- *

Another search, another hunt, and another kick in the chest. This wasn't going... well, anywhere. Not at this rate.

Scar's body lied limply under a tree, the dark lion groaning in pain as he stayed there, in the shade, unmoving. He glared towards the horizon, irritably watching as a herd of gazelle pranced away from him, kicking up dust as the frantic calls they exchanged amongst themselves lessened and faded into the distance. He had spent hours painstakingly stalking the herd, trying to make sure the wind was in his favor, picking out the right gazelle, planning his approach carefully as he hid behind the shadows and trees in his path, taking _everything_ into consideration… and still failing. In the end, there was nothing to show for his efforts, except for some bruised ribs and a lot of pain from where his quarry had effortlessly kicked him.

_What am I thinking? I'm asking myself to do the impossible._

Who was he kidding? Scar wasn't built for hunting. His small, agile form could move very quickly, but he lacked the stamina and power to chase after his prey for long periods and quickly bring it down. Whereas Mufasa could knock over and subsequently kill a zebra in one swipe of his paw, Scar was lucky if he could latch onto a small, helpless animal long enough to mutilate it to death; any prey he did catch was hopelessly bitten and shredded by the time it finally collapsed onto its knees. Typically they just kept running and kicking and bucking, ignoring his desperate, uncoordinated swipes and the claws raking down their backsides. And after just one or two attempts at this, the poor lion was simply too tired and battered to continue.

Not like it had ever really mattered until now. Typically the pride's lionesses did all the hunting. It was just his luck that the one time it _did _matter was when he got stuck in the Outlands. The _Outlands_. The barren, pathetic, forbidden, putrid, horrifying, irritating_ Outlands_. The herd of gazelles he had just failed to catch, which had already disappeared, was the first prey he had seen in hours.

Scar knew he couldn't go back to the Pridelands by himself and in broad daylight. By now they would be on the lookout for him; Mufasa and his pride would certainly attack him if they found out he so much as showed a whisker in there. They might even be hunting him down and actively searching for vengeance, in which case the remote and rugged Outlands were his safest option. However, the Pridelander pride was not the only thing to watch out for. Being denied access to the Pridelands was, of course, a major obstacle in several ways, but for now he was mostly dismayed because of the fact that nearly all of the prey seemed to congregate in his brother's land, since his main focus at the moment was getting enough meat to appease the hyenas; he could plot his brother's death later. In this case, his best option was to go to the Pridelands.

He might just be able to sneak in at night, but hunting at night was much, much harder and riskier, and there was still no guarantee that he would catch enough, or even anything at all, if he actually went through the trouble of going there.

The solutions to both conflicts, the lion realized with dismay, utterly conflicted with each other. He would have to think this through carefully.

Scar struggled to his knees, gently sliding his rigid paws under him and staggering finally to his feet, trying to ignore the acute pain in his chest and the stiff soreness spread throughout his body. He was getting older; that was for sure. The dark lion groaned slightly as the sun began to set; time was running out. Only six days left, and he had nothing so far.

_I'm a fool. A stupid fool. I… needed help. Why did I choose the hyenas?_

_ I have to do this on my own. I have to survive and finish what I've started._

He wasn't thinking clearly. Scar padded thoughtfully over the wavering grass, letting the wind blow through his mane and rustle it wildly, making him look like a crazed and wild animal as he trudged forward, growling at his luck and how rashly he'd acted. _I could be king right now, _the dark lion snarled to himself, _curse those wildebeest. _He smacked the ground angrily with his paw, watching the dirt fly up in the dim light of the setting sun.

Scar finally lied down in a comfortable hole, trying to contemplate what he could do, imagining up drastic measures to take, daring plans to execute; and then changing them, tweaking them, before finally discarding them completely to dismiss them as ridiculous.

Six days. He had six days. Whatever happened to him after that was unknown; all he knew was that he had to survive.

The lion laid his head down on his forepaws, staring blankly at the horizon and the last flickers of the sun to the east. Obviously, he had to get some sleep soon. It had been a disappointing day, to say the least.

He retreated a few yards into the grass, curling up behind a rock, trying to hide himself as best as he could, just in case… His tail twitched slightly in the cool breeze, as night began to mask the land in shadow and the stars began to appear in the deep, darkening sky.

Scar didn't know of what was to come, and of course he didn't know that, a few nights from now, he would be risking everything and crossing the now forbidden border instead of sleeping…

* * *

><p><em>Oooooh, the foreshadowing. xD lol Oh, and on the way out, don't forget to review! <em>

_Twin out ;)_


	4. Got Stalkers?

_**A/N: **Okay, this chapter is all about Scar. I'm trying to add some foreshadowing, but also explain him and the hyenas a bit more. I'll get even farther into this later. I figured that Mufasa and Sarabi can wait a chapter. lol_

_**kate: **Here it is, enjoy! :D_

_**Mom: **uh, okay then, I believe you misheard me. :S There's absolutely_ **no** _way that I wrote Exile in two hours... o.o_

_**Topstop: **So I've heard. But, unfortunately, one of the main points of the story is that he dies, so I'm afraid not. :(_

_**readsmanyfavsfew:** I already replied to yours, lol. But thanks for the review. :D_

_**IronicSnap: **I don't know if it IS possible, Snappy, but we will see. :| Poor Scar. :o But I'm glad you thought I did that well; imo, I suck at those kinds of things. I thought it would end up being cheesy. lol xD_

_**Lilly: **I will, don't worry. :) I'm pleased to say that I'm not even close to getting bored of this story yet. :D_

_**StonedMonkey1: **Nice username, lol. And here it is; glad you like it. ;)_

_**Cylocrux: **Thanks for the reviews. (: And yep, fed up they are! ...On a side note, I see you've read "The Freak" by Tiger Kahn. I haven't finished it yet (I'm on like... Chapter 11 or something), but dang, it's been so good up to this point! :D_

_**Reldor: **I lol'ed so hard at that, haha! I'm not even going to ask how you did that. xD_

_Random note that you probably don't really care about: I saw The Hunger Games movie on Friday, at the 11:10 showing. It was amazing, and I think it will live up to the hype. So, if you were wondering whether you should go or not, my personal opinion is: yes. It was very fast-paced and true to the book. :D_

_Oh, and I notice that I forgot to put up a soundtrack last chapter. XD But whatever. Instead, for this chapter, I'd like to recommend this Youtube video. It's called "What happened to Scar?" and it is one of the best TLK ones I've seen. The fanart is really good. And no, it's not mine. :c Because I don't even have a Youtube account._

* * *

><p>Scar awoke shortly after dawn, tired as always and slightly irritated, before taking a luxurious moment to stretch his limbs, blinking his drooping eyes clear of the haziness that still blurred his vision as he rolled over onto his feet, yawning stolidly. Without thinking twice, he padded slowly forwards, leaving the small cave he had slept in with a sense of finality as the sun began to rise, splattering the sky with varied hues of fuchsia and ruddy fluorescence that reflected off of the clouds which hung stilly in the pale morning sky.<p>

He blinked slightly, distractedly, barely registering the sunrise, and only noticing the wasted time that its passing represented; the lion made his way towards a nearby stream, continuing his weary, patient tread across the rustling waves of grass. As he finally reached the banks, allowing his paws to dip and splash in the cool, clear water as it rushed by him, he looked around, teeth gritted in nervousness.

_Maybe this will wash off my scent, _he thought absentmindedly, the fur on his back bristling slightly. _Maybe they won't find me here; maybe they'll… _

Scar stopped, his wisp of a thought quickly trailing off as he paused, unsure of himself. They'll what? Give up? Leave him alone? No, he knew better than that.

_But it's worth a shot, _Scar thought desperately, dashing speedily across the small brook, nearly running back into the grass on the other side, before he stopped in his tracks, catching himself. The thick layer of mud could leave footprints, easily. He whirled around, still up to his knees in the fast-moving water, which sloshed about as he desperately plodded forwards, intentionally keeping himself parallel to the path of the creek.

He hated water. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was _water_. He tripped, clumsily, several times, struggling to find footing in the sinking, spongy bottom of the river, effectively dampening and muddying his fur as he stirred up the dirt and grime in the riverbed. After about a hundred feet, Scar was all too ready to leap out of the water, his paws now soaked and dripping with brackish-colored sludge. He retreated into the grass, out of sight of the river before he realized he hadn't even dried himself off. The lion halfheartedly stretched out, shaking his body free of the sopping moisture and even managing to groom his paws quickly, before heading off in the same direction, his eagerness to continue rendering him unaware of the dripping puddles of water and the thick, splattered footprints he had, despite his best efforts, unintentionally left behind up to that point.

Scar stealthily slinked through the grass, keeping his body strategically close to the ground as he blended in with the thick mats of dry vegetation, which surrounded and engulfed his dark, shadow-like silhouette. He continued in this manner for a long while, not catching a sight, sound, or scent of any other living creature that could possibly be a threat. The lion vaguely noted that he was moving towards the Pridelands, but didn't exactly worry because he was still a considerable distance from its borders.

Finally the sun's heat was beginning to be full-fledged, the glowing orb flying towards its noonday peak, when it would be at the top of the sky, reigning over the Pridelands and exhibiting its painful wrath for all to see. Even in the early morning, the lion noted that he was sweating… rather profoundly. Scar panted slightly as he continued to walk, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth as his now damp, bristly fur began to clump together, adding to his dusty, unkempt appearance.

But the heat wasn't the only reason why he was sweating. Something had followed him to this godforsaken piece of the Outlands, despite his best attempts at keeping himself hidden. Now he could smell it, feel it, _sense _it. A cold chill shot up his spine as he glanced up at the crest of a nearby hill, catching a glimpse of a single, shadowy figure, which instantly multiplied into two, then four, then ten.

They didn't run blindly at him, though he knew for a fact that they had seen him. The lead one merely smirked, turning to its new compatriots, quickening the pace of the group but still remaining at a quick walk. Scar froze, not daring to do anything, even as he beheld the malicious and triumphant grins which consumed their countenances. And then the chuckling began. A twisted, intimidating version of laughter, purposefully loud enough so that he could just hear it. Scar began to back away from them, but they only sneered at his discomfort as they effortlessly surrounded him, a vicious glint in their eyes as they paced around him. The pack studied him; closely, avariciously, as if he was to be their next meal.

Scar's tail lashed about, his own small way of showing his anger as he beheld the eleven strong hyenas standing impatiently before him.

"What do you want?" he snarled, his voice little more than a raspy growl, "I thought I told you to leave me alone."

"Well, Shenzi told us the contrary…"

The lead hyena spoke up, and Scar finally recognized Banzai's brusque and rather blunt way of speaking. The hyena tilted his head slightly, his expression confident and somewhat relaxed, as if mocking him in some sort of offhand way.

"How'd you even find me?" the lion snapped as harshly as he could, though he was unable to suppress the slight quavering quality present in his voice; the fear that now crawled slowly up from his gut as he spoke, beholding the hyenas, who seemed to be edging closer at every word.

"Ah, come on, Scar. Finding you? After you left your paw prints for us on the riverbank...? How stupid do you think we are?" he replied sharply; his comment, as always, retaining a dose of his trademark, snarky attitude. He paused for a moment, grinning devilishly, contemplating his words before continuing, "…you really think _running _is going to help you? That's pitiful. And if there's one thing we hyenas hate, it's a coward. You've got one day left… but I'm sure you've realized that." Banzai seemed to pick up on his temporary captive's complete lack of confidence, and Scar could have sworn that he had seen the bold young hyena lick his lips slightly in anticipation. But for whatever reason, while the hyena was clearly trying to intimidate the lion, all his attempt did was embolden him ever so slightly in defiance. Scar unsheathed his claws, crouching slightly, halfway in a pouncing position, as if ready to fight, should it come to that…

"Well, what do you think?" Scar scowled, an inkling of his typical, fiery sarcasm dripping into his voice as his tail lashed about, with just a bit more boldness than before, "you and your dimwitted companions have come and _harassed _me seven times in the past five days. You don't _think_ I've noticed?"

"Well, Shenzi doesn't. What do you have to say about that?" Banzai continued persistently, ignoring the fact that his companions were understandably insulted, no doubt glaring daggers at Scar as they growled faintly, even less able to keep still now…

"Well, why don't you let me see her?"

"I already asked her. She said there was no more to discuss, _Scar_," the hyena spat out his name in distaste, appearing to sulk slightly from the lion's repeated inquiries. Scar had noted that they had ceased attempting to be nice, stopped attempting to sugarcoat everything, though he had no idea. Their true wrath was still yet to come.

"Just bring it by sunset tomorrow…" Banzai stated hollowly, pausing awkwardly, as if he had more to say but was contemplating his words carefully…

He crept closer, until he was within a few inches of Scar. The lion could hear Banzai's faint breathing now, as well as the quiet snarl that crept across his features; he could feel the warm breath of his enemy on his whiskers as the hyena looked up at him. His muscles tensed reflexively as he stood there, on edge, apprehensive about what exactly was happening.

"…because your life depends on it."

The lion backed up slightly, but not in surprise. They hadn't explicitly threatened him; not until now, yet it came as no shock to him, despite the fact that he could still feel the dread hanging thickly about him like a shadow, always there...

"I am aware."

"Good. Remember, tomorrow by sunset. Or you're dead meat, _pal_." The hyena swished his tail patronizingly, taking Scar's unreadable expression and patient silence as an answer, before he took his hyena companions and left the area without another word.

He stood there for a moment, thinking, as the hyenas retreated, before he realized that he had only one option. It was crazy. It might get him killed. But it was worth a shot…

Raid the pantry.

* * *

><p><em>Life sucks.<em>

The hyena matriarch sat patiently, twirling a bone idly with two of her forefingers, her head resting lightly on her other paw as she stared off at nowhere in particular, reflecting silently. Her yellowish eyes glinted softly in the dim light of the cave, which was still cool and refreshing despite the fact that it was noon outside.

Suddenly, and without warning, she flicked the bone away, taking her head off of her paw as her face contorted into an irate scowl. Both of her paws clenched, scraping the boulder she was sitting behind with her claws, leaving long, white scratches into its dark, rough surface.

_Where are they? I sent them out _hours _ago… It shouldn't be that hard ta find a lion like him…_

_ Oh, come on…_

Suddenly a scraping of claws was heard, emanating from one of the nearby tunnels. Shenzi turned her head slowly, not really being in any hurry, somehow knowing that it wasn't the hyenas she was waiting for. A small, frail hyena entered instead; a female, clearly worn down by age and the hard life that many of them had, despite Shenzi's efforts, been forced to live.

"What's goin' on, Zamani?" The matriarch softly asked the hyena, who was both her aunt and the former matriarch, allowing a slight hint of rare compassion to be present in her voice. "Something wrong?"

"I don't know…" the older hyena quietly addressed her beloved niece, walking to face her on the opposite side of the boulder, "it's just that, as leader of ta hunting party, I see we've been searching farther for food each passing day… and Makamu had her pups last night, as ya probably know. It just seems like there's more mouths to feed than we can handle right now… I figured that I should talk to you about it, seeing as how you _are _our leader now…" She sat there, her tail flicking about slightly, still strong despite her advanced age.

"Well, auntie, I'm workin' on it; I can assure ya. Ya see, we've gotta certain… deal going that should earn us both food_ and_ revenge…" the younger hyena smiled deviously, bringing up a slight smile in her aunt's old face.

"That's my girl… I always knew ya'd run this family well after I'm gone… So, what's this plan of yours?" The older hyena asked Shenzi conversationally, resting her forepaws on the boulder and grinning in interest.

Shenzi was about to respond, but she was quickly cut off by a ruckus near the cave's entrance. Guffaws echoed off of the damp walls, and the boisterous chuckling and slapping of footsteps completely obliterated any chances of a peaceful conversation. The matriarchs, old and young, watched in annoyance as Banzai and his party waltzed comfortably down into the dome of the cave, several chattering and laughing at what must have been a particularly funny joke.

"I'll give y'all a minute," Zamani whispered to her momentarily distracted niece, narrowing her eyes in slight irritation at the group. "Banzai…" she muttered to herself, "always loved 'im, even if he's not particularly _bright_…"

As her aunt left the cave, so did Shenzi's brief, sunny attitude. Her usual calm maliciousness again ruled her demeanor as the male hyena made his way to the boulder where Zamani had been, his expression an odd mix of laughter, arrogance, and anger.

"So… what took ya so long, boys?"

Banzai glanced at a few of his companions, who sniggered slightly.

"The lion was trying to run from us. It was pathetic!"

At this, all of them burst into a peal of laughter. Shenzi only sat there dully, her face turning sullen and angry as she glared at them, clearly not amused. The laughter died down awkwardly as they contemplated the threatening expression on her face. Banzai spoke up defensively, trying to stay on good terms with her.

"Man, why don't we just kill him now? Why wait?"

"Ya don't understand, do ya?" She started, groaning as the hyenas shook their thick heads at her. Shenzi finally emerged from behind the rock, pacing in a slow circle around them, teeth bared in a low growl.

"Well, it's a little thing called patience. Not that you would know what that is, huh, Banzai?" She paused, getting irritated as they sat there silently, clearly not getting it. "Look," she said, softening her face and putting on her best fake smile, "I know ya wanna kill Scar. And ya _will_. Trust me; he will pay for what his family has done. But we can't just go off killing him right away—"

"Why?"

Shenzi chuckled slightly, trying to keep her now boiling anger in check, noticing that the hyenas relaxed just a bit. She began to circle Banzai, who was blissfully ignorant of her rage as she paced about him, now smiling seductively, her tail gently being drawn against his side as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Because if we don't, we starve..." she said, thinking back to her painfully short conversation with her aunt, "…Look, Banzai. I know Scar; that lion will do whatever you want if he thinks his life is in danger. Make him _think _he has a chance. Make him _think _that if he does favors for us, we'll let him live."

Banzai chuckled darkly, eyes glued to her in admiration—no, adoration—as she walked in front of him one last time. He finally understood, sort of…

"And then…" she said as innocently as she could, now behind Banzai, who was completely oblivious of what she was doing. The other hyenas had backed up considerably, forming a rather tight half-circle as they watched in curiosity.

But, of course, none of them saw it coming. In a mere second, Shenzi had grabbed his back leg lightly in her teeth, and with a heave had flipped him, unharmed, onto his back. Before he had even realized what was happening, she was on top of him, pinning him down, a sadistic smile spread across her jaws as she looked him in the eye, her teeth glinting in the dim light as he lied under her, momentarily unable to hide his shock and fear.

"…We kill him."

* * *

><p><em>So, I guess we'll see if Scar is very bright after all. And I'll explain what "raiding the pantry" means next chapter. xD lol<em>

_-The rare Twin has now left, perhaps to be spotted on another story or chapter... (;_


	5. Romeo, Wherefore art Thou?

**_A/N:_ **

_I hope you are all ready for Chapter 5. I wanted to update one last time before March ended, and so I hope this Chapter goes out with a nice bang to celebrate this month. A big thank you to all of you who have already favorited this story, reviewed, or put it on alert. I'm glad you're enjoying it _that _much. ;) _

_This chapter is about Sarabi and Mufasa. I'm hoping this doesn't get repetitive or cheesy, but you can always leave me a review and tell me how I did. ;) Scar chapter next chapter... should be pretty exciting. Also have other... shocking... surprises planned for the future, so stay tuned. _

_Now for reviews. :D_

_**Mom: **Thanks, that's what was supposed to happen. :p_

_**Reldor: **Ahahaha, true. ;) Scar's gonna get it if he's not careful. More... "amusing" parts ahead, then. :D_

_**IronicSnap: **If it turns out the way I want it to (and most of this story has), then yes, it will be pretty exciting. Scar isn't in this chapter, but I do explain what "the pantry" is... :p And I'm glad you liked Zamani. I threw her in there kind of last minute._

_**Seph4evr: **lol "to the Pridelands!" is right. :p and yeah, he's kind of backed himself into a corner. The hyenas aren't exactly... nice. :o_

_**kate: **sure, here it is. I updated early. ;)_

_Now on with the story. :)_

* * *

><p>"S-Sire… I h-have news for you today."<p>

Mufasa sat in the back of the cave, red tail tuft flickering silently as he lied quietly in the shadows, not looking towards the rising sun or the light beginning to creep into the crevices and between the rocks. He only stared at the wall, away from the other sweaty bodies piled up in the enormous cavern's center. Sarabi had pointedly slept on the opposite end of the cave, head on her forepaws, pretending to sleep softly and soundly; really, though, she was watching the sunrise, the thin film of tears which had, over the past few days, taken to chronically resting in her eyes threatening to spill forth at any given moment. Zazu treaded carefully, not wanting to cause their boiling anger and emotions to flare up at him. He walked in his paradoxically meek, yet self-important way, fluffing out his tail feathers as he sheepishly tapped Mufasa's shoulder with his wing.

"Sire?"

There was no response, not even a vague acknowledgement to his presence. Mufasa kept staring at the wall, as though nothing had happened at all. To him, it may as well have been that way. He now spent so much of his time just staring, and when he was really "there", so to speak, he still spoke as though he was talking to no one in particular. Everything about him had become odd and vapid.

_It must be grief… grief over Simba. _

_ But could it really be? Or is it something else that's troubling him?_

"Sire, what's wrong?"

Mufasa looked over his shoulder, and Zazu felt a slight glimmer of hope rise up within him, but it died when he noticed that the lion before him was looking right over him. Zazu quickly glanced behind him in curiosity, watching as several lionesses padded out into daylight. Today was the day for a hunt, and they would need to leave soon if they wanted to have a successful day locating prey. In a matter of minutes, the cave was empty, save for the two silent lions and Zazu's trembling form, which still remained behind one of the rocks.

It was just Mufasa… and Sarabi… and Zazu. The three of them sitting stock still inside the cave, an awkward silence hanging in the air and filling all the gaps and hanging corners of the cavern.

"Uh, Sire, I have news for you… from the kingdom."

Mufasa finally looked over his shoulder, relapsing, slowly but surely, into one of his more lucid moments. He nodded slightly in Zazu's direction, ready to tackle whatever problems were present in his kingdom, no matter how inane they usually were.

"Well," Zazu began, bowing slightly and ruffling his feathers, "it looks like the hippos are fighting over water rights, as usual. The cheetahs have been… causing trouble, to say the least. And then there are the flamingos. They're fighting over nesting ground, just as they do _every _year. I tried to settle it myself, but what can you do? Ha, this one of them came up to me in a bit of a huff, and I was thinking, 'Wow, if only they were as _bright _as their feathers are.' But then we argued and—oh, never mind. And then the giraffes were in a bit of a spot over this one…"

The king looked at his majordomo distractedly, somehow able to note and remember each individual thing the hornbill said in his long-winded report. Sarabi looked at them blankly, almost as if she was watching two individuals she'd never met, before she looked up at the lion. Seeing eyes on him, Mufasa turned and glanced back. For one small moment, their eyes met. It was only for a second. Zazu hadn't noticed, and both lions were almost unaware of it themselves. Yet, in that one glance, Sarabi saw in Mufasa's eyes all the words she didn't want to hear. The bitter truth she had been ignoring for the past six days:

"_The animals need a king. And I… I won't be here forever."_

_ No. NO. __**NO!**_

She didn't know exactly what happened next. Everything was a blur. The next thing she was aware of was her own body lying on the floor of the cave. Sweaty. Pulse pounding in her head. Screaming.

"I CAN'T DO IT! I CAN'T HAVE ANOTHER SON!"

Zazu visibly jumped, having no idea what was really wrong, or that Sarabi's emotions were really on a hair trigger. He backed up several steps, and then decided that it would be best if he flew away. Out of the cave and into the daylight, the bird left the couple alone.

Mufasa looked up ruefully, sadly, his eyes glinting in understanding.

"Sarabi…"

"No, I don't care about them. About the flamingos and the hippos and the cheetahs. They don't need a king…" she lied, knowing that, without them, the kingdom would have fallen into chaos a very long time ago…

Mufasa walked over to his mate silently, rubbing her side slightly with his paw, nuzzling her delicately, even risking a small lick over her fur with his warm tongue. All that he did reflected affection and regret, the need to be forgiven… But when she looked at him, he could tell how she really felt. She wasn't angry at him. Nor was there affection. Rather, it was ten times worse. It was empty. Blank. Like a slate that had been wiped clean, the tears dripping from her eyes reflecting nothing. He nuzzled her cheek, trying to get her to look at him, but there was nothing. No acknowledgment, no return of affection. She just looked down at the ground, a week's worth of warm tears, pitifully held back until now, spilling out of her eyes and onto the ground; hot, brown splotches of wetness that began to sprawl over the rocky, dirty floor of the cave.

Now he was worried. It had only been six days since the event, true, but still… this wasn't normal, was it? Perhaps his mate was far, _far _worse off than he thought…

* * *

><p>Rafiki sat in the rain, under Pride Rock, the moon obscured behind the clouds in what was one of the darkest nights he had ever seen. Simba's young, dead body lied before him, in a shallow depression which had been dug for the purpose. He'd certainly been busy; the baboon had spent all day gathering certain jungle herbs and pungent plants for the ceremony. It had been a day and a half since the cub's death, and the baboon watched as Mufasa and Sarabi slowly walked towards him from the opposite sides of Pride Rock, from the dark pits of loneliness that had surrounded the both of them since the previous day. Fresh tears showed on both of their faces as the two lions sat down, ready to commence the funeral rites.<p>

It was a long and complicated process, and there was much mourning involved, as each of the lionesses at Pride Rock came down and gathered in a circle around the corpse. After several hours, the burial was about to begin. Each of the lionesses stood in a line, slowly walking by Simba's body, each one standing by him and saying a few words before continuing on. All of them had sadness written on their faces, and genuine sorrow hidden in their hearts. Every lioness was unknowingly thinking the same things.

_What an unfortunate turn of events._

_ If only he was still here…_

_ I'll miss him._

And yet, though each one possessed the same emotions, had the same thoughts, and said the same things, it didn't mean that they all had the same intentions.

Because one lioness thought of the situation in a way that was totally, fundamentally _different_.

* * *

><p>A pack of lionesses padded across the grass. The green carpet of the Pridelands softened their footfalls as they treaded quietly around the well-worn paths leading to Pride Rock. The sunset shone distantly behind them, lighting up their backs as they walked across the shadowy ground ahead of them, letting the tall, matted grass waver in front of them as they trotted triumphantly, some of them jubilantly carrying haunches of zebra, flanks of gazelle, and other bits of game in their mouths. Others still had entire carcasses slung across their backs, the limp bodies bobbing slightly with the rhythm of the lioness's footfalls. It was the very picture of a successful hunt, and it had brought a slight hint of joy to what had been an otherwise morbid, depressing week devoid of such niceties.<p>

The whole train walked into the flat space of barren ground in front of Pride Rock. All the grass on it had long been worn away by the stomping of paws, and only a thin layer of eroded dust covered it. Sarafina stopped here, setting down a whole gazelle and a zebra leg as the others stopped behind her. Normally, Sarabi led the hunt, but today she was excused from such a duty. The younger lioness had left her daughter in the hands of one of her good friends, Zira, who had had to stay anyways—she said she wasn't feeling well, and although she was one of the better huntresses, Sarafina still had more than enough lionesses to pull off a good hunt. They waited patiently. It was tradition for the king, Mufasa in this case, to eat first. But after several minutes, no one showed up…

"What do we do? Is he here?" A young lioness called from Sarafina's rear. The lead huntress, in turn, looked over her shoulder at the lioness, before glancing back at the still silent Pride Rock.

"Maybe he doesn't know we are here yet…" Sarafina started out stolidly. At this, all of them simultaneously roared, letting their calls echo across the walls of the hulking stone in front of their bodies. After about thirty seconds, Mufasa suddenly appeared. Distantly, he remained standing on one of the rocky ledges which surrounded the peak of the rock. He didn't walk down, only glancing at the meat before walking away with an uncharacteristically meek-sounding "I'm not hungry."

The lionesses shrugged. He had been acting strangely. Simba was his only heir, so being in a state of grief was only natural for him. Each ate their fill, which was surprisingly little considering the physical exertion they had each put themselves through for the pride's well-being. The lionesses sat around, tails flicking as they shared the meat amongst each other. Quiet conversations filled the air with a comfortable hum, and each of them was content as they enjoyed their meal. But, eventually, they came to notice that there was quite a bit of meat left over. Valuable meat, which they certainly didn't want to waste. The dry season was coming up, and the herds would soon migrate to better grazing areas. Usually the dry season wasn't too long, but it was something that couldn't exactly be predicted. When it came to food, it was always better to be safe than sorry. And although it was little more than a hunch, the lionesses had a feeling that the yearly state of drought might last a little longer than usual…

Their time of plenty would soon end, and so keeping the meat for as long as it was remotely edible was crucial. Thusly, when they had finished eating, each lioness took a fair share of meat behind Pride Rock. Creeping forwards slightly, they ducked under a low entrance and into a dry, cool cave, known to the Pridelanders as "the pantry". The sweet scent of meat filled the expanse as they carefully placed the leftovers in the very back of the cavern, hidden by some stalagmites and carefully kept cool and dark under a shady slab of rock in the corner. Sarafina held a gazelle haunch in her mouth, and carefully slung an older piece of half-eaten ostrich wing over her shoulder. The cubs would certainly be hungry, as well as Sarabi and Zira. Thinking twice, she also grabbed an old, shriveled up piece of impromptu gazelle-jerky. Maybe Mufasa would change his mind.

The rest of the lionesses left the scene, leaving Sarafina, who was soaked in blood from the meat she was now loaded down with. Glancing around, she also made her way out of the cave, and began looking for her daughter and Zira.

"Nala!" she called quietly, her voice somewhat muffled from the piece of meat dangling from her jaws. "Nala, I brought dinner!"

A few other dirty, scruffy-looking cubs hopped down the ledges, and Sarafina absently placed the haunch of gazelle in front of them. In a moment, they attacked it ravenously, and she managed one last glance down at them before she left. Nala wasn't among them. She continued with the wing and the old gazelle meat, carefully placing the wing in one of the main walkways near Pride Rock's center. Mufasa and Sarabi would be sure to find it if they wanted it.

"Zira!" she called again, listening closely for any sort of response. "Zira!"

Sarafina loved her daughter, and was normally very protective of her. The only reason she felt okay about leaving was because she trusted Zira enough to keep her alone with the cub. Normally, Mufasa and Zazu would have kept the cubs out of trouble, but Mufasa… well, nobody knew what to expect from him. They just let him have his space. But for whatever reason, she began to panic. Her fur bristled slightly and she began to sweat just a little. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have panicked quite so quickly, but with Simba's death just days before… maybe something happened?

No, that was preposterous. She had been looking for less than five minutes; she couldn't allow herself to panic quite so soon.

"Zira! Nal—ack!"

Sarafina stumbled backwards, having practically slammed into Sarabi's shrunken form, which had been shuffling around Pride Rock for no particular reason.

"Oh, Sarabi…" she looked at her friend, who was barely able to maintain eye contact with her. "…Have you seen Zira or Nala around?"

"Z-Zira?" The lioness shuffled nervously in front of the lead huntress, glancing around quickly as she fumbled around with her words, "uh, didn't she go o-on the hunt with you? I haven't seen her a-all day."

Sarafina's face immediately fell, her concern not hidden as it spread across her face. A sweat broke out and her already shallow breath caught in her throat.

"No, she stayed to look after… to look after… oh no… Who's watching Nala?" she quarried, her voice now intense with seriousness, which caused Sarabi to jump slightly in surprise.

"Isn't she with the other cubs?" Sarabi only stared ahead of her, blankly, unaware of her friend's distress. Sarafina's daughter was… missing.

_Oh god. Oh no. This is the second time I've let her out of my sight… but this time. What if…what if something _bad _happens? What if I'm not so lucky?_

"No," Sarafina said, shaking her head, dropping the piece of meat in her mouth as she bolted off, leaving Pride Rock behind as she tried to pick up her daughter's scent, which she faintly detected at the boundaries of the thick boulders which surrounded Pride Rock. Much farther than where she should have been.

"She's not."

* * *

><p><em>Uh oh, where's Nala...? :o Review and maybe you'll find out in a chapter or two. ;)<em>

_-Twin out_


	6. Starcrossed Scar

**_A/N:_**

_Hello readers, and welcome to Chapter 6. ;p This one is the longest yet; that's because it's the last one. Yep, the last one. I'd like to thank you all for reading; it's been a good run, and I'll see you somewhere else._

_But now, to reply to reviews._

_**Mom: **lol, only 6 chapters in this one. Kinda short, I know... :( And lol about gazelle-jerky._

_**IronicSnap: **I did that for a lot of this chapter. Some of this was very last minute. Actually, the whole river-scene was. And where Nala goes... I still have no idea. xD _

_**ForeverNocturnal: **Thanks for reviewing and favoriting this story; that means a lot. (: Enjoy Chapter 6, the last chapter._

_**readsmanyfavsfew: **I laughed out loud at your review, haha. xD And I'll be sure to work on that a bit; I was worried I would ruin it if I explained too much. :/_

_**KShara Khan: **You think so? Well, lol, we'll have to see. ;) _

_**Kate: **Thanks for responding! Here's chapter 6. :)_

_**Reldor: **Although your comment did make me laugh, I have to point out that, in this fic, she isn't actually his mate yet. In fact, as of now, she's never even talked to him. ;)_

_Now on with the story._

* * *

><p><em>Now's my chance. They're away on the hunt.<em>

A lioness padded forwards slowly, away from Pride Rock; her light, dusty-colored pelt was only slightly visible in the grass. Not that it really mattered. The only ones who had been with her at Pride Rock were some cubs, and the royal couple, who hardly acted like a couple anymore. They just sat around, grieving. They wouldn't notice. Even if she ran away screaming and jumping around like an idiot, they wouldn't notice. She only hoped that that cub wouldn't follow her.

Now that she thought about it, maybe she felt a little bad about leaving her friend's cub like that. Sarafina had never really done anything to her, and would probably panic when she found out…

_Oh well. That's life._

She shrugged slightly, crinkling the thick vegetation around her as she growled slightly. The cub should be fine anyways. Nala was smart.

Her tail flicked about slightly as she headed quietly towards the Outlands, looking for… _him_.

_What an unfortunate turn of events._

She wished that she hadn't had to go looking for him like this; that he was still at Pride Rock. But hey, if love were easy… she just wished he knew how long she'd had a crush on him.

Had lions been able to read Shakespeare, Zira would have no doubt called herself "Juliet", looking for her exiled Romeo.

* * *

><p><em>This is it. My last day. They should be on the hunt…<em>

Scar crept as silently as he could, ignoring the scent of hyenas to his left and right. They would probably follow him all the way to the boundaries of the Pridelands. All of hyena-kind had been personally banished from the Pridelands, and most didn't dare to set a foot into what was now Mufasa's territory. He scanned the ground that lied in front of him, the faint smell of urine telling him that Mufasa had still marked the borders. There was a single boulder, large, brown, slightly eroded… everything beyond that was the Pridelands. The lion heard a faint rustle, and looked behind him to see a flash of hyena fur, retreating farther into the Outlands.

At least here, they would leave him alone. But there were other threats, of course. He just hoped that he didn't run into the huntresses. He'd be dead if that happened. Scar lashed his tail slightly, lifting his nose to the faint trickle of wind wafting by his nose, trying to detect anything…

Nothing.

But of course, Scar was a lot older than many of the lions in the pride. His senses were weaker than some of the younger lionesses. Even if he didn't detect anyone else, it didn't mean he was safe, or that someone else couldn't smell him.

* * *

><p>Zira walked by the border to the Outlands, still looking for Scar. She had thought she'd found his scent for a brief moment, but that was inside the Pridelands. Scar had no reason to go inside the Pridelands. Or so she thought…<p>

She walked, farther and farther into the Outlands, ignoring the scent of the hyenas which were now surrounding her. The lioness looked around, a—wait, maybe she could ask one of the hyenas. She unsheathed her claws, just in case one of them put up a fight, and started looking for one. All of them fled from her on sight, but finally she found one that appeared to know something.

"Hey! Get back here!"

As predicted, the hyena bolted from her, but she gave chase, despite the fact that the hyenas were at a clear advantage, seeing as how they knew nearly every part of the Outlands and had the strength of numbers.

Her quarry sped through narrow gaps in rocks, darted across thin patches of tufted grass, and leapt over small boulders. The lioness had a hard time keeping up, as even her lithe, agile, and quick body found some of the obstacles to be a challenge to navigate. Yet, after leaping over a jagged rock face, she had to grin to herself. The hyena was running straight towards the edge of a gorge. There was nowhere to turn, nowhere to run. It turned around on the very lip of the cliff, looking at her calmly.

Too focused on the hyena to see it coming, she suddenly felt several bodies slam into her right side, knocking her across the ground, her side sliding against the dusty floor that covered the Outlands. Gray bits of dirt flew up as she impacted, temporarily blurring and obscuring her vision. She twisted her body quickly, landing on her feet, still unable to see. Zira wiped her eyes with a paw, trying to get the dust out, unable to see the hyenas lunging at her viciously.

_ Perhaps this wasn't a good idea_, the lioness thought as she was suddenly pinned to the ground, finally able to see the ragged forms of her adversaries, smiling down at her triumphantly, white fangs gleaming with wetness as they studied her closely.

"Give us one good reason why we shouldn't eat you, _trespasser_," one of them spoke up, practically spitting out the words.

"I just wanted to know if you all have seen Scar around," she said calmly, unfazed by their malicious disposition. The hyenas visibly looked at each other, slightly shocked, half-expecting the young lioness to weakly plead for her life, or do something of the sort. The one who had spoken up, perhaps their leader, again focused his glinting green eyes on her, clearly contemplating what to do with the lioness. Finally, he smirked lightly.

"We'll take you to Shenzi. She'll answer your questions."

Oh great. This was a detour. All she really wanted to know was where he was, and soon. She didn't want to take a trip all the way to the Elephant Graveyard, which was far in the heart of the Outlands.

"Can't you just tell me w—?

"_I said_," he interrupted, rather rudely, "we'll take you to Shenzi. Now, come with us before we change our minds…"

They let her up, and she sheathed her claws, seeing no real choice but to follow…

* * *

><p>Scar was finally in sight of Pride Rock. Everything had gone well, up until now… but it was the last few hundred yards that would make a difference. He sheathed his claws, something that he almost never did, exposing the bare pads of his paws to the soft, slightly dusty ground. He crouched, but his dark mane and body were more suited to blending in with the dry, barren landscapes of the Outlands. In the green, brightly-colored Pridelands, he stuck out like a sore thumb, even from a distance.<p>

But it didn't matter, because this would be his only chance. If he failed, there was no way he could get to the Outlands in time. And even if he did, his week would be up, and it was certain beyond a doubt that the hyenas would execute their threats without mercy. What they would do to him, he didn't want to think about… he couldn't afford to. Shoving all thoughts of death out of his cluttered mind, he focused on the task at hand.

_They probably won't be back for a while… I have maybe half an hour…_

He trotted confidently across the grass, trying to keep the occasional shrubs and boulders between him and Pride Rock. What he didn't have in stealth, he had to make up for with speed. Surprisingly, he was able to make it to the side of Pride Rock, out of view of anyone on the ledges, without anything happening. He stood for a moment, trying to detect which way the wind was blowing. It seemed to be blowing his scent away from the kingdom's hub, which worked to his advantage… for now. The wind could change at any moment, and there was no telling which direction the huntresses would come from.

Being a former Pridelander, he was able to remember the location of the cave where the meat had been stored. Ducking under the edge, he smiled slightly as he met with the strong, pungent scent of slowly rotting, but still edible, meat. They hadn't moved their stash.

It was a strong, almost euphoria-inducing perfume. All his senses reveled in it as he stood in the midst of the darkness, barely able to suppress the triumphant, ecstatic mirth that bubbled up from his core. He'd made it. He'd _made _it. He could live! Life, sweet life!

A snap outside, perhaps from a bird, jerked him back to reality. The hyenas wanted meat. A _lot_. There was certainly enough here, but how much could he take without the Pridelanders noticing? It was impossible to know for sure. He delicately pawed through the dry slabs of gazelle, ostrich, hippo, buffalo…

_Lucky the hyenas aren't picky_, he thought as he picked up a particularly old, crusty, maggot-filled piece of… what exactly was that? Tossing it away in distaste, he decided it would be safest if he took some of the older meat packed near the bottom. The lionesses would be less likely to notice. He slung a dead gazelle over his shoulders, and stuffed his jaws with as much meat as he could reasonably and quickly carry. Frowning, he realized that he couldn't hold quite as much as he thought. Scar would have to make trips. With the hyenas, it was better to be safe than sorry…

He slunk out of the cave, sprinting towards the crest of a hill, tucking the meat behind a boulder a few hundred feet away. Scar stood there, listening intently, licking his muzzle clean of the blood which soaked it.

This would create a fetid stench, no doubt, but he wouldn't have to come back to the Pridelands once this was over… If they found out he had been here and followed him, they would have a hard time doing so in the Outlands. In the meantime, he could afford to leave the meat there until he could carry it back with him.

The first three or four trips went exactly as planned. But as he headed back for the fifth trip… he finally noticed the time. It was nearly sunset. The huntresses were overdue to return. His fur bristled slightly as he looked cautiously over his shoulder, then back at Pride Rock. There had been no noise at Pride Rock… he must have been the only one here. Mufasa was never this silent.

Well, if he was alone, he could work a little bit faster. He bolted back to the cave again, not paying much attention to the noise his footfalls were now making. The lion just wanted to get it over with, to pay off this debt and return to the relative safety of the Outlands. Desperate and wanting to finish as quickly as he possibly could, he heard a thud outside the cave.

Oh no. He backed up, whipping around to face the entrance, tail twitching in fear, terror written on his face. The huntresses were back? Already finished eating? Oh no, this was _not _supposed to happen…

"S-Scar? Mommy said you were gone…"

Scar froze. He'd completely forgotten about the cubs; there were others besides Simba, and they never went along on the hunts. And there was always someone there to watch them. But who? He hadn't seen or heard a single adult lion the whole time he'd been here.

He lunged at the cub nonetheless, not even bothering to pick up the shank of gazelle he dropped as he shot towards Nala's trembling form. She deftly avoided his sloppy, ill-timed swipe at her throat, finally realizing the danger she was in, before leaping out of view of the cavern. Scar panicked, now knowing that he'd made the wrong move to attack the oblivious cub. Not thinking, he quickly ran after her across the forests of grass, unable to see her small, terrified body as she zigzagged across the flat, hard-packed ground. He growled at her fiercely, and she could see the murderous glint in his eyes as the last rays of sunlight reflected off of them, nearly blinding her. The cub staggered across the ground, nearly tripping as she fearfully stumbled away from the snapping jaws which grabbed at her. In retrospect, the dark lion should have made his way towards the boulder, bringing whatever meat he'd taken back to the Outlands before it was too late. But even Scar, who was normally calm and intelligent, had had too little time to process what had just happened.

_There can be no witnesses. No one can know I'm here… _

The lion's head pounded as his heart thumped in his chest, vision blurring as he struggled to keep up with the fading image of the cub. He made a final, desperate leap towards her, knowing that it would be too dangerous to continue up the slopes of Pride Rock. Unfortunately for him, he narrowly missed her frightened body. Scar then thudded to the ground, dizzy, head spinning as Nala escaped. The lion felt as though he were in a dream, watching as Nala scrambled up the ledges and away from his field of view. He lied there, dazed and too shocked to do anything, even when the strong, angry form of his brother appeared on the rock.

Their eyes met.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he finally understood the danger he was in. The world seemed to swirl in blinding colors, sharp edges becoming blurry, Mufasa's charging form appearing as a surreal flash of gold accented with dazzling, flaming red. He twisted his body around in an attempt to get to his feet, staggering about, only vaguely aware of the fierce roar racking his brother's seemingly distant body. He tripped, helplessly collapsing to his knees, watching as Mufasa quickly closed the distance between them.

_Get up. _

Scar was finally provoked into action, wedging his paws under him and standing up shakily, ready to run, head still throbbing as he stubbornly clutched to life. The lion darted away, his quick body being slightly faster than Mufasa's as he ran away. Nala, emboldened now that her life was no longer in much danger, also attempted to follow the older lion, though she didn't get very far before her small silhouette was left behind in the heat of the chase.

Scar hadn't noticed or cared, only aware of his brother's looming presence just a few steps behind him as he was inevitably forced to cross a river, water splashing up as he writhed about in the deep water, trying to get across it as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, however, he'd never been much of a swimmer. Neither had Mufasa, who tromped about noisily in the clear stream in a pathetic attempt to swim. Both of them hated water, and ended up being stuck in close proximity for what seemed like hours.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU COWARD! I'LL RIP YOU IN HALF!"

Scar couldn't help but roll his eyes. Mufasa was in one of his rages again.

"I'll pass…" he replied as calmly as he could through a mouthful of water. In reality, however, he was petrified. Mufasa started to claw at his brother with his jagged claws and powerful paws, each time being pulled closer by the current. Scar could do practically nothing, even as they slashed just inches away from his struggling body.

"I'm **not** asking you," Mufasa retorted with a growl, his claws raking even farther, just nicking the inside of Scar's leg. His younger brother pulled away, desperately, though really it was pointless. He was at the mercy of the lapping water, unable to do anything as he incoherently paddled about, searching for footing in the bed of the brook. The two of them had only made it about halfway across the river, and Mufasa's strong body had eliminated the lead Scar had held while running. Fueled by rage, Mufasa made another swipe at his brother, and was finally able to latch his whole paw around Scar's hind leg.

"_**Murderer**_..." the older lion stated accusingly, "you killed my son. You tried to kill his friend…"

Scar could feel his brother's grip on him tighten. He continued to kick about, putting up a fight, but it was no use. Mufasa was too strong. Having no other choice, the younger lion looked back, eyes glinting with hatred and defiance, two burning embers piercing through the thick film of water between them as he momentarily accepted his fate.

"_So what_?" the dark lion spat venomously, ears flattened in anger, watching his brother's mortified, yet furious, expression.

_He doesn't… he doesn't mean it. Somewhere he cares. My brother would never become a monster… Would he?_

_ Oh well. It doesn't matter. He murdered Simba. And Father taught me that murderers must die, no matter… no matter who they are. _

"Let me go, _Muffy_," Scar continued with a sharp kick in his direction. The older lion froze at the mention of his old nickname, and for a second, Scar felt his grip loosen… before it tightened even harder. Mufasa's expression hardened resolutely, and he began to pull his frightened brother towards him, unsheathed claws beginning to dig into Scar's tender flesh, drawing fresh blood and tinting the water a light crimson.

The younger lion gritted his teeth, again attempting to escape, his desire to live again flaring up as he clawed frantically towards something, _anything_, he could grab onto.

"You call me a murderer… but are you any better if you kill me, _brother_?"

Scar had tried to get Mufasa to doubt himself, or to get him to change his mind, but it didn't work. The younger lion fearfully watched as more of his blood stained the crystalline spring. Hot, fiery pain rolled through his leg as Mufasa's dagger-like claws effortlessly incised through the fur and skin on his calf.

"Don't even try that. You tried to kill me. You don't… care that we're related. And after all these years, Taka…"

Scar cringed slightly as he was called by that name—his real name—which hadn't been used in years…

"You killed Simba," Mufasa started, pulling his brother closer with a jerk, "destroyed Sarabi,"—another jerk—"and had the gall to show up and attack an _innocent _cub. After all those years I looked after you, just like Father wanted me to—"

"—Ahadi," Scar interrupted.

"_Father_," Mufasa corrected, shooting an odd look at his brother.

"He's _not_ my father," Scar snarled, eyes meeting with Mufasa's again. Slowly realization spread over his brother's face.

"I-Is _that _what this about?" Mufasa started, his voice quickly resuming all of its intense seriousness. "You ruined my life… because Father didn't choose you as first in line?"

"Because _Ahadi_ didn't choose me as first in line," Scar snapped ostentatiously with a smirk, dangerously glancing at his brother, teeth bared slightly.

_Finally, after all this time… he understands._

"Everything you did was for the throne. You murdered my heir, tried to throw me off a cliff… that was all you wanted all along. And… you came back to kill me, didn't you?"

The golden lion growled in anger, ignoring Scar's pained groans as he finally pulled him up next to him. Scar sputtered, trying to expel the water from his nose and mouth as Mufasa placed a clawed paw on his throat and pressed his head under the surface.

"Pfffbtt. N-no, I didn't-fft…" Scar growled out his answer, if only to escape his brother's wrath. It was the truth, after all… he'd only come to steal that me—

_Oh no._

Scar paused for a moment, panicking, eyes still focused vaguely on his brother. He'd left it, behind the rock. The lions would find it, might figure out why he was there… not that it mattered. He'd be long dead by then anyways. Night had already fallen. The hyenas would be waiting at the border.

"Kill me," he spat out simply, closing his eyes, resigning himself to his death.

_I'd rather be killed by my own brother than slaughtered by a horde of those… brutes._

"What…?" Mufasa questioned, face softening slightly.

_Why would he ask that? Does he… feel guilty? Or anything at all?_

"I said 'kill me'," Scar repeated. "I don't want to live anymore…"

Mufasa tilted his head at him, puzzled. But he did nothing more except look up at the sky, as if wondering what he should do… what someone wise like Rafiki would do…

Scar felt his brother's grip loosen, and then cease altogether. His body floated freely, drifting away from the golden lion who'd released him. Mufasa only treaded water, shooting a final meaningful look at his brother as he finally reached the opposite bank. Scar clambered weakly out of the water, soaked to the bone. He shook his fur clean desperately, shivering under the cold starlight.

Scar was a dead lion walking. He didn't have long left to live, but at least he wouldn't have to do anything like that ever, _ever _again.

* * *

><p><em>Oh yeah, remember what I was saying about this being the last chapter and all?<em>

_..._

_**APRIL FOOLS! BAHAHAHAHAHA! ;) **It's a little late, but trust me, I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. _

_They will meet again. :) See you in the "non-existent" [ ;) ] Chapter 7, Twin :)_


	7. Friction & Chemistry are Laws of Nature

_**A/N: **_

_Hey there everyone. And if you didn't notice my April Fool's joke by now, then... wow, yeah, yay for obliviousness I guess. xD Chapter 7 does exist, and I've been working tirelessly to bring it to you instead of doing my Washington State History homework. You hear that, guys? I'm spending my time writing a fanfiction chapter for you instead of completing a boring timeline! Don't you all know how much that just RUINED my whole day? xD ...You all had better be grateful. -.- ...Review time. :p_

_**blue-eyed-burnet: **lol, thanks. You'll find out more this chapter, though this conflict is by no means over._

_**Mom: **You'll see. xD That's all I'm going to say... you'll see... :p_

_**ForeverNocturnal: **Glad you relate to the characters then. That moment comes soon... :D I'm definitely thinking next chapter. ;) And no, no, certainly not pleased..._

_**kate: **lol, okay. Here you go. :D_

_**IronicSnap: **Hmmm, never thought of that. :D Isn't that from The Merchant of Venice? I may be wrong; I haven't read much Shakespeare, though I really want to. We actually finished Romeo and Juliet in school about two weeks ago, hence all my references. I suppose that Romeo is Scar, Juliet is Zira, and Tybalt is Simba. Although Simba isn't creepy and he doesn't try to kill people, so I suppose that analogy isn't 100% accurate. lol xD And as far as Scar and Ahadi, I believe he is his father. I don't think I made that very clear. Scar just... refuses to call him his father. He had a much more distant relationship with him, I think, than Mufasa did. I'll explain that more later; this isn't the chapter for it._

_**readsmanyfavsfew: **Glad you liked it. As I said, that was all last minute, so I thought it would come off as shoddy. But it looks like I succeeded, and that it was better that they met after all. I'm glad you not only liked it, but thought it was that strong. And thanks for favoriting this story as well. lol xD_

_As you may have noticed, this chapter is shorter than the others. It just looks larger than it is because of these notes. I also attempt... humor... this chapter. To lighten the mood just a tad, I guess. And because I wanted to try it. Please, please, **please **leave me a review on how I did. I need to know if it came off as funny at all, and how this could influence future stories/chapters. From what I've heard, humor done correctly can add to a story, though I don't consider myself a comedian by any definition of the word. And if you aren't into that kind of thing... don't worry. I'm not going to completely go that direction. Just trying it out. Next chapter is very serious. Promise._

_EDIT: To quell confusion: the part I was referring to is the part with the hyenas. The other stuff, such as Nala and Sarafina, is still dead serious. So if you thought you were supposed to laugh at Sarabi's depression... no, I'm not **that** heartless. :S _

* * *

><p>"Nala!"<p>

Sarafina ran across the grass somewhat crazily as she searched for her daughter's small form amidst her surroundings. The setting sun beat off the lionesses' back, and her hot, sticky body longed for shade. It was odd. For someone as neat, organized, and meticulous as she was, she sure had a knack for losing her cub. The last time she had lost Nala was that fateful day at the stampede…

If Nala had shown up even a few minutes earlier, she would have been crushed just like Simba had been. Sarafina knew that, especially now, she had to keep a better eye on her daughter, but in the end it was all too easy to lose the mischievous cub as she set out to explore the world around her. As painful as it was to say it, she was almost used to it by now.

"Nala!"

She called louder, hoping that maybe the other huntresses would hear and come to her aid. It must have worked, because only moments later several lionesses arrived at the scene, many of them on the fringes of sleep, eyes drooping as they irritably asked her what was going on.

It was just Nala, missing… again. Really, the occasion was not particularly momentous, and it shouldn't have brought surprise to any of the sensible females. But they still were all too eager to pitch in, a fresh sense of common, maternal panic spreading across each of their faces as they painstakingly searched under every boulder, in every tree, in every corner of every single cave on the premises…

How could a young cub have traveled this far?

She must have been missing for a while… where was Zira? Did she just _leave_ right after they'd left? What could have happened? No one had remembered seeing her for hours…

Apparently the event was momentous after all; even Sarabi joined the hunt, albeit halfheartedly. The old lioness simply padded around, her mind seemingly on something else as she flipped over the occasional pebble, claiming that she really was searching _very_ hard for Nala. In reality, however, she just wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

_I wish my cub got that chance. I wish someone looked for Simba before… before… he got crushed._

Sarafina said nothing, ignoring her strange behavior as usual, and continued on, several huntresses by her side as they scanned the north edge of the patchy grasslands, closer and closer to the dim, dark border that loomed across the plain. Closer to imminent death, destruction, and… hyenas.

It was well past sunset. Groups of stars shone silently, far above the earth, and a faint, full moon was rising from the eastern horizon to sit in the dark sky. All the lionesses wanted to sleep; but of course a lone cub, the African savannah, andnightfall wouldn't coexist harmoniously. The Pridelands were safer… somewhat. They didn't have hyenas, but that didn't mean that all of the animals were unanimously above making a meal out of a small, helpless lion cub. And if she crossed the border…

"Naaaaaala!"

Sarafina called for her daughter again, but there was still no answer…

* * *

><p>Scar waited in the Pridelands for as long as he could, but it didn't make much difference. The hyenas were getting bolder, slowly and slowly moving past the border. He could just smell them, their scent being blown by his nose from the Outlands which spread out to the north. From the darkness and solitude they slowly crept up from their desolate home, waiting eagerly. There was no place to run to, nothing he could do. He didn't move, he only waited. It was just a matter of time, of how long he had to wait for...<p>

The lion sat down, eyes drooping from exhaustion, fur still soaked from the river-water. He traced his warm tongue over the inside of his leg, clearing it of the hot, sticky blood which clung to it. All this he did slowly, without rush, as though it was just another night instead of the last one he would spend alive. Scar carefully drew a paw over his mane, smoothing out the silky hair as it hung gracefully around his shoulders.

_At least maybe I'll die with some dignity_, he thought as he groomed the last of his fur clean. But nothing happened. Even as he lied down on his forepaws, the moon high in the middle of the night sky, there were no noises, no sights or sounds, and, now that the wind had changed, only the occasional whiff of a wandering scavenger…

* * *

><p>"Wow, am I hungr—!"<p>

"SHHHHHhhhhhh! Shut up, Asokai!" came the quick response, accompanied by the usual snigger of laughter.

A small trio of hyenas was walking peaceably near the border of the Outlands, simply enjoying one another's presence during the calm darkness of the night, which was accompanied by the musical chirping of crickets. Enjoying the calm, mature conversation and the mutual respect that each of them shared… Or the lack thereof.

"I swear, Asokai, sometimes you are _so_ annoying…" the oldest of the hyenas berated, rolling his eyes in his sharp, blunt manner, not even trying to hide his irritation as his soft paws padded across the thin layer of dust. "Where you would be without us…"

"Hey-yyypp!" Asokai interjected, his young voice noticeably cracking in a pitiable _squeak_. He was neither a cub nor an adult, but rather an awkward, growing adolescent. Which sucked because it was simply impossible to take him seriously. Especially when he yelped like a Chihuahua being punted across the room.

"Hey, Squeaky, do that again!" the middle hyena of the bunch jeered, jabbing his younger companion in the side with an elbow. He quickly relapsed into a peal of laughter. Asokai merely snarled. Or, rather, attempted to snarl. More laughter ensued at his failure.

"Ugggh," the oldest hyena growled, expressing his distaste, "no wonder the lions think we're idiots. For the most part… we are." He stopped short, observing his friends—one of whom was still laughing like a fool, the other only growling softly at being made fun of.

"You should talk, Vuur. I mean, you don't even know…" the middle hyena stopped, taking a breath, almost unable to continue from the laughter, "why… we are… here. You… just… BAHAHAHAHAA!"

"Just what?" Asokai continued curiously, glancing at the oldest hyena, who suddenly shirked away in discomfort. "What is it?" he said, now smiling deviously at his laughing companion.

"Uh—er—it was nothing. Just nothing at all. Heh… heh… nothing," the leader of their little group continued, a little too innocently.

"Oh, pffft, _right_. Uh-huh. Nothing. I saw you staring at Shenzi while she was giving you orders."

"Shut it, _Tydige_…" the oldest hyena groaned in denial, though really it was too late. The cat was out of the bag, and his giggling dimwits of friends simply weren't going to let _that _cat go.

"Whoa, you and Shenzi?" Asokai laughed, suddenly interested, eyes widened in surprise, "So, _Hot Stuff, _d'ja ask her out? Huh?"

"_What?_ Of course not! I'm her subordinate. It'd be—uh—completely undignified," Vuur said, smoothing back his clumpy mane in mock professionalism.

"Besides," Tydige continued with a toothy smirk, "everyone knows she's with Banzai."

"Exactly," Asokai squeaked, ignoring the pathetic yelp issuing from his throat, "it's just a question of whether or not she _knows_ she's with Banzai."

"Yeah-h-hahaha," Tydige commented, unable to suppress all of his laughter, "they deny it, but the world sure can see it!"

Vuur grew slightly red in the face, embarrassed. Asokai immediately threw his arm around his companion's shoulder, too affectionately for his cynical friend's liking.

"Don't feel bad. It's just that… she'd never like someone like you," the middle hyena simpered, patting his shoulder patronizingly.

"Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better…" Vuur growled, somewhat irritated.

Asokai paused, thinking maybe they had overdone it. Tydige, however, kept going faster than ever. There was a moment of silence as the three lightly treaded along, before the foolish center of the trio again broke it, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Hey," he shouted, his voice a perfect imitation of Banzai's as he mocked the hyenas' notoriously intimidating, though witless, second-in-command. "Whadd'ya think you're doing, lookin' at my girlfriend like that?"

Even Vuur managed a rare smile, albeit for only a moment. Asokai and Tydige, however, were another story. Their laughter had echoed throughout the Outlands, and it seemed as though it would travel all the way to the Elephant Graveyard, where Banzai himself would be able to hear the din they had created. Finally, however, the three had reached the edge of a large cliff, marking the border of the Pridelands. They stopped and, after several minutes of breathlessness, were able to resume their usual seriousness, though reluctantly.

"Wow, I've never seen the Pridelands before," Asokai whispered, his immature form covered in layers of shadow as he stood on a rock, the trio's unsightly, emaciated bodies standing in intense awe as they gaped at the downward slope in front of them.

"It's a boring, hateful, bloody place," Vuur started, his usual world-weary attitude sinking into his voice as he regretfully stared down the smooth, dimly-lit rock face that stretched out under them.

"Oh," Asokai said simply, unaware of most of the terror and prejudice that had been pressed onto their kind. Unaware of what exactly they were even doing here, on this lonely night. "Well… I only hope that soon I can find something that will satisfy me."

Vuur paused, looking down into the gorge one last time, hatefulness now burning in his eyes.

"Don't we all?"

* * *

><p>Scar continued putting one paw in front of the other, walking. He didn't know where, he didn't know how, or why… just… walking. Taking in the delicate scenery around him, a sort of blissful indifference overtaking him as he plodded along contentedly. He only had one night left anyways… why not enjoy it while he could?<p>

The night itself was quiet, the gentle rush of the wind and the chirping of crickets being the only background noise. In fact, during his whole sojourn, the only other sound he'd heard was the strange, bubbling noise of laughter. Hyena laughter. It had come from somewhere far in the northwest, and though it was enough to send a fierce chill down his spine, he didn't let it worry him. In any case, it had quickly receded, and there had been no other noises worth noting. Only the continuous, pleasant screech of the crickets.

The moon shone brightly, full and reflective, unhindered by clouds. Night in the desert may have been cold, but this one possessed the luxurious, almost tangible beams of inviting light which shot forth from the glinting, star-peppered sky. It went perfectly with the calming breaths of cool wind which blew steadily across the plain, gently nuzzling his fur and ruffling his mane. His paws tread gently, patiently, across the ground, which was soft and smooth to the touch.

Overall, it was glorious. Extravagant. Scar paused, lips parting slightly in a weak smile as another gust of wind rippled through his fur. But the wind, however, did not pause. It never stopped for anyone. The air continued to blow through the plain, pushing past Scar, flying through the sparse vegetation, rustling the crackling branches of the shrubs, and rushing towards the grassland, where it encountered a second being. A lioness. Crouched and huddled in the bent, twisted forms of the gale-blown grass shoots, she listened and waited as the gust blew in her face, showering her senses with the warm, sweet scent of… him.

_He's close. But he will probably assume I'm a Pridelander. Well, I suppose _technically _I am… was… _

_I have to surprise him so that he doesn't run from me. Besides, from what Shenzi said… he doesn't have long at all. I can't waste time, and neither can he._

But luckily for Zira, stealth was her forte.

She crept closer, stalking the oblivious lion as he enjoyed the peaceful night air. If he'd noticed her, he certainly hadn't shown it. Why was he acting so… naïve? Had he accepted death, and lost… the will to live?

No, of course not. Scar was stronger than that. He wouldn't give up so easily. But still… she had to watch with a certain air of curiosity as the lion of her dreams quite literally stopped to smell the flowers… She dug her claws into the ground, steeling herself as she strengthened her resolve.

He never saw it coming. And even when he did, he appeared too terrified to do anything at all. Perhaps she had moved too quickly, but it was a moot point. In a matter of seconds, the lion was pinned under her grasp, but to Zira's surprise, a defiant smirk and a growl quickly replaced his originally fearful expression. The way he did it… it was enough to make her blood run cold, and then hot… the heat rushed to her face as she gazed upon his body, which was still snarling enough to make her fur bristle on end.

This was the lion she was looking for.

* * *

><p><em>I think I'll go a little into ScarxZira. Not much, mind you-I've never written romance. I'll just provide my view on this... very <em>interesting _pair. Also, let me know whether or not I should throw any dreams of being a comedian out the window... xD And speaking of that, in case you were wondering... my OC names. Vuur- flame. Tydige- timely. Asokai... I don't know. I made it up because it sounded cool. :S_

_So... review? :) And please don't forget to vote for my poll; it's posted on my profile. xD Of all the people who have visited it this month, no one has volunteered 10 seconds of their time to vote yet. *sad face* :c_

_See you Chapter 8. Twin ;)_


	8. The Pit and the Pendulum

_**A/N:**_

_I scream, you scream, we all scream for UPDATES! xD Okay, that was a little corny, but from what I've seen it appears to be true. There seems to be some anticipation for Chapter 8, as well as some (untrue) fears about me abandoning this story. To make it perfectly clear, I am not quitting this story. :p In fact, of all my fics, this one is the least likely to be discontiued. Unfortunately, though, I've been pretty crammed ever since Spring Break finished, track started, and other stuff started happening. I've had very little time to write. (And BellaVision, if you are reading this, I was working on Truth or Dare last weekend, but my computer lost all of Chapter 3. As well as the 8-paragraph essay I'd been working on all Sunday. -.o So no writing occured last weekend, and it may be a few extra days for an update. :p)._

_I was going to keep writing all the way up until Scar faced off with the hyenas, and then publish that, but somewhere along the line I realized that that wasn't realistically possible. My chapters are getting longer and longer as it is; not to mention that I haven't updated in nearly a month. Considering this is my most popular fic, that is too long, even by my lackadaisical standards. xD But I have more written after this. Expect another update soon. :p I am also writing some "undercover" fics. These won't be published until they are completed, but expect some excerpts and little "hints" here and there. :D As to what they will be about... well, you'll see (Don't say anything, Snappy and TTJ. :p)._

_Now for reviews... WOW I have a lot this chapter. O_o And some new readers. That makes my day. ;)_

**_kate: _**_Here it is... lol :p Oh wait, I always say that... xD Oh well. Enjoy Chapter 8. :D_

**_Seph4evr: _**_Glad to hear it! :D Reading back over it, I thought that was the funniest part myself. xD_

**_readsmanyfavsfew: _**_I think you misunderstood me just a tad. xD All of that chapter was dead serious except the hyenas, but I already told you that and made an author's note so yay for redundancy! xD In any case, I am familiar with Snappy's fic, S, T, &W, and yes, it is hilarious. :D_

**_Reldor: _**_lol. :p Your comment made me laugh again as always. *thumbs up* And yes, she does. *wink wink nudge nudge*_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Shakespeare references ftw! xD I feel like such a nerd saying that, but still... :p *cough* yes, we are getting off track. xD And thanks! I love things that make people laugh out loud. At least one person understands my sense of humor. :o Asokai was my favorite, teehee. :D S + Z chapter... let's see where this goes. ;)_

**_Forever Nocturnal: _**_Thanks, glad you liked it. :D The hyenas were admittedly a little off-topic, but I thought maybe my readers would like a short break, you know? And I wanted to try something a bit different. xD And I know what you mean; I just want to explore their general relationship. This is not a sappy romance. :p And as a final note... I like your avi. Is it a gecko? XD_

**_mom: _**_Thanks, glad you liked it. :p I know what you mean about Sarabi, but she does come a bit more "center-stage" in this chapter... as well as in a few chapters from now (yep, that's foreshadowing guys (;). Here is Chapter 8._

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Glad you liked it, TTJ! :D I'm a fan of your work (especially your poetry) as well. :p I'd say more, but we've already PM'ed each other about this. xD And my author's notes are getting really long. x.x_

**_Sunkissed Fairy: _**_Thanks for the review! Critique is always nice. :p I know the hyenas seem a little OOC, but I thought it would give it a nice twist... maybe I'll add a little more about WHY they are threatening him so they don't seem so OOC. xD And I'll be sure to go back and fix the quote. I guess that's the (one) disadvantage of being a Scar fan: while I know all his quotes by heart, when it comes to Simba and Mufasa... yeah, I kind of draw a blank. xD_

_Well, that's all for now. Without further ado... On with the story. ;)_

* * *

><p>"Well, dear, what now? Going to kill me?"<p>

Scar growled, studying the lioness who had, quite literally, come out of nowhere. _Probably one of Mufasa's_, he thought with disdain, remembering his thick brother and his little… stunt… at the brook. So… that was Mufasa's grand plan? Let Scar go, and then send a _lioness_ to murder his brother for him? If this lioness' young form and scrawny stature were anything to go by, she was little more than a weakling. A runt. But… why? Why send a lioness when he could have killed him in the river?

"Are you waiting for your Mufasa to show up? Or are you too cowardly to kill one of your own kind?" he jeered, half expecting a weak, stammering reply. But what she did next… was a surprise. The first of many that night…

"Oh," she chuckled darkly, her voice brusque and firm, "trust me… If I wanted you _dead_, Scar, you'd be dead already."

She continued with her odd little grin on her face for several moments, before something else caught her attention. There was a rustle in the bushes, and Zira distractedly looked over her shoulder… was it a hyena? She loosened her grip on him slightly, perhaps not quite aware that her intentions weren't, to him, very clear.

Scar watched as her paws, previously planted firmly on his chest, lifted slightly. She seemed to be stealthy, and with an attitude like that, she was a threat. He continued staring at her, as if hoping to dissect her with his gaze. The lioness was so much younger and smaller than him, her face still youthful and retaining the essence of softness, which contradicted with her naturally sharp, angular build. The attacker continued to unknowingly raise her paws slightly, and he could feel her sharp claws cease to prick at his skin and flesh. But what caught his attention most was her eyes… blood red, alert, and maliciously sharp, even through the thick wall of darkness pressed up around them.

The lion was merely looking at her from a pragmatic viewpoint. Her vigor seemed to impress him as being… mysteriously interesting. At the very least, he had to find out more about her, and if worse came to worse and she tried to fight him, he had to be able to kill her without a trace, a goal that would be impossible if he remained pinned onto his back. Scar felt… vulnerable. If, for whatever reason, she changed her mind and attempted to murder him, he didn't stand a chance. At least, not at the moment.

"Well, you can let me up any time now…" he started out, expecting some sort of harsh denial to his request. It wasn't the smartest thing he could come up with, though maybe some—

"Hmmm," she answered in the affirmative, nodding in acknowledgment, inadvertently butting into his thoughts. That was all she said as she slowly brought one paw, and then the other, off of him.

_Maybe he wants to talk… maybe he understands that I'm not here to hurt him._

_If he runs away, I can just pin him again, anyways._

Wrong answer.

It was Zira's turn to be scared witless as the lion pounced at her, a flash of dark, angry fur glinting in the moonlight. She tried to pull back, as she had not expected him to resist against her, but the lioness was too unprepared. And if Scar had ever been the type to have a motto, his motto would have most certainly been "be prepared"… In the end, he was the one with the advantage as he stood on top of his adversary, displaying a lot less… gentleness… He attacked her with his strong grip, his venomous, stinging claws splayed out across Zira's loose fur as he placed both paws on her throat, throttling her remorselessly. Yet, despite all this, when he spoke, his voice still retained that soft, seductive quality. Even when he was choking her half to death, the lion's words felt calm, and smooth. Not forced… Her eyes flashed subtly, reflecting the ample moonlight as she lay on the cool, damp ground, more entranced with him than ever, even as he pushed on her with surprising strength.

"I can never trust a liar to give me an honest answer," he purred in a way that seemed delicate and soothing, even though the meaning of his words was quite sharp indeed, "and you… a Pridelander. How can I trust you? I can't…" he scoffed lightly to himself.

"I'm… not… a Pridelander…" she managed to choke out breathlessly, not having noticed the desperate gasps for air she had been making until she tried to speak…

"Not… any…more…"

_She's no good to me dead... _he emotionlessly reminded himself, still wanting to crush the life out of her with his paws. Scar lightened his grip as little as he dared, and the relieved gasps she emitted cautioned him to go no further.

"What's your name?" he pondered out loud, a terse nod aimed in her direction.

"Zira," she said simply. That was it—Zira. No bells or whistles, just… Zira. A unique name, nonetheless.

"Zira. Hate. Hmmm… doesn't seem to _suit_ you," he trailed off with just a hint of suspicion as he glared down at her quietly. _There must be more to her than meets the eye…_ Because, to his eye, there wasn't much that was very hateful about her. Except, possibly, her red eyes, though that could just be genetics, not necessarily a predisposition to do evil…

And yet, maybe that was what put him most at unease. There was more there than what it seemed… and he could relate to that. No one ever thought Scar, the king's scrawny and unassuming brother, would ever—_could ever_—do anything even remotely noteworthy. They would have been shocked to know that the same lion had come inches away from usurping the throne, and had killed his nephew in a stampede that he had plotted himself. This lioness was just like him—that much he could tell already. And while she had a lot to learn, she had the potential to be a killer.

_Maybe that's why Mufasa sent her in the first place_, he mused. Because he wasn't going to kid—who else could have sent her? And if she resembled himself as much as he thought, then that meant she was a _very talented liar_…

He kept this in mind as he continued to interrogate her.

"So…" he said almost conversationally, as if they were merely talking to each other like a normal pair of friends in the savanna, "tell me, _Zira_, why you are here."

"To find you," she responded frankly, dutifully answering his query with as little words as possible, in exactly the same manner as she intended to answer the rest of his questions. _So, _he thought with irritation, _she wants to play _that _game? _

_Vague… but probably true. I'll have to keep asking her questions._

"And why, might I ask, dear?"

"So I could help you," she retorted, with just as much earnestness as before.

Now _that _one confused him, and not in a good way. He ruminated over the thought for a moment.

To help him? With what, exactly? What sort of answer was that? Scar growled, knowing that, inevitably, this all led back to Mufasa. But how stupid did he think his brother was? A lioness shows up saying she will help him, and then he would accept it?

He would… accept it? Maybe, _maybe_ that wasn't such a bad idea after all… He was in a bit of a pickle right now, in any case.

Scar looked over the lioness one last time. Maybe that was all part of the plan… maybe she was _supposed _to seem frail and unassuming. She hadn't killed him right away, though she mentioned that she could have—probably a slip of the tongue, or something that was purposefully emphasized to try and impress him. Zira was a spy, or an assassin, or both; that much Scar could say for certain. Trust was a prerequisite for these sorts of operations to go successfully. Once she got what she wanted, once he trusted her enough to make the mistake of opening himself up, showing her whatever softer side he may have had… cutting his throat while he slept would be all too easy. Scar, however, had the gift of foresight. All he had to do was make sure he didn't trust her; that she couldn't get that close to him… And once he took whatever help she had to offer, he could kill her first. But in the meantime, why not play along? He could just pretend that he was completely unaware of it, which wouldn't be too hard. After all, he was a _very talented liar_…

He made his decision quickly; he would continue to play her strange little game. Smirking lightly, he turned his focus back to his enemy, who was still calmly pinned under his grasp, waiting for the next question.

"Well, then… you _must _want something in return, am I right?"

"Yes," she replied back in that same stoic manner, yet this time her narrow muzzle was starting to contort ever so slightly into a smile…

"Then tell me, dear. Of all the things I _don't _have, what was it you intended to take from me as… payment?"

Zira was now smiling openly, eyes glinting in what could only be described as glee. Her teeth shone in the light of the night, but her grin was not malicious… Her next answer would be, by far, the hardest to get his head around, but in the end, she ignored his confused looks, his shaken countenance, and the odd, questioning growls that reflexively shot out of his throat…

"Your undying love."

* * *

><p>It was now well past nightfall, and there was absolutely nothing hospitable about the huntresses' bleak surroundings. Sarafina trudged forwards, ragged and battered, tired and worried… Overall, they had long since lost the faint rays of hope that had trickled and seeped through their weary, pessimistic souls.<p>

"Nala…" the cub's mother tried to call out, though at this point it was barely audible over the group's heavy, pounding footfalls.

"Na... Na… Nal… Nala," she trailed off, struggling to get the words out, tears beginning to stream down her face. Slowly she began to accept it. Sarafina would never see her cub again. She had failed her sacred duty as a mother: to keep her cub safe… and it was all _Zira's _fault.

Sarabi continued by her friend's side, their attitudes matching the rest of the pride's… dark and sullen. But one attentive young lioness still had hope.

Nyota crept through the sparse bushes, her small form slinking over the cracks in the boulders which peppered the landscape. Shadows and shrubs continued to envelop her pale body as she darted in and out of various places. The lioness seemed to slither up the trees as she climbed them, hoping to get a better look. A delicate breeze ruffled her soft fur and her green eyes glinted contentedly in the moonlight.

The only cloud in the sky, which was small, puffy, and shining brightly with luminescence, crawled across the pitch, star-dotted atmosphere. It seemed to posses its own glossy, gossamer quality; as if it shone by its own radiance, instead of merely borrowing that of the moon's. It crept half-heartedly through the heavens, almost its own being as it arrived in front of the glowing orb, blocking out the lionesses' only light source.

Nyota's pupils dilated in an instinctual attempt to see more of her surroundings, which were now dark and unwelcoming. She rushed farther up the tree she was in, ignoring the swaying that racked the supple branches and the sudden rain of leaves from the canopy.

_The night is darkest before the dawn_.

That was all Nyota, the youngest lioness of the group, thought as she again scanned the earth in front of her. Her sharp senses and almost telescopic vision had already adapted to the change in lighting, allowing her to see through the deep, penetrating mask of barren shadow. It was then that she saw it.

"Nala!" she cried out, just as she and the others had many times before. But this time was different. Unlike the rest of the lionesses, her voice was not hollow with dread, or thick and shallow with grief. There were no hot tears or desperate sobs. This time… there was elation. In the midst of hopelessness, she had found what the others had long been searching for.

* * *

><p>"So, where exactly was this stash of yours?"<p>

Zira stood in front of Scar, all too eager to head out into harm's way for him, blissfully unaware that he was secretly planning her demise. It wasn't exactly that she was naïve, but the way he did it, the way he so graciously accepted her help… He must have reciprocated her affection to at _least_ a small, miniscule degree… Most lions would have declined her offer and run away, wouldn't they? Yet he hadn't. Her narrow face was drawn into a questioning, yet enthusiastic, grin. Zira peered at him over her shoulder, unable to sit still as she silently and impatiently shifted her weight from one side to the other.

"Behind the boulder, about one hundred yards west of Pride Rock… And remember, I—we… don't have much time… I am entrusting _you _with this, my dear. I'd get it myself, but, heh, that isn't an option at this point, I'm afraid," he replied as calmly as possible, knowing his whole life rested in the balance of a total stranger. It wasn't exactly a position he wanted to be in, though he tried his best to look her straight in the eye, as tranquilly and serenely as he could. He had a hard time doing so, though he knew very well that looking away would make her think he was lying. Which, for once, he wasn't.

Zira nodded agreeably, still shuffling about from her own feelings of impatience. Scar studied her closely, puzzled. It was a warm night; why did it appear as though she was shivering?

"What exactly was this for again?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, my dear. You said you wanted to help me, now, did you not?" The old lion snapped more quickly than he should have, pawing the ground absently, tail flicking uncomfortably. Perhaps it would be better if Zira—and inevitably Mufasa—didn't know whether or not he had had connections with certain… animals.

"Yes, of course…" she grinned almost seductively at him, before leaving without another word. Quiet footsteps signaled her all too premature departure.

_I have to hurry. He doesn't have much time, thanks to those… hyenas._

* * *

><p>It was night in the savanna, and two beings were calmly huddling next to each other in the expanse of the open plain. A pair of dark silhouettes merged together closely as one, visible at a distance from both their pale, shadowy figures and the joyous noises they were creating. The event was just short of a miracle; after hours of searching, mother and cub had finally been reunited. A close bond of love and trust kept them close together as they shared innocent smiles and delicate licks on the other's cheek. The hours of searching on the parts of the other lionesses… to them, it was worth it, being able to witness this…<p>

"Nala… oh my, you know better than to leave… where _were _you?"

Several of the other lioness—namely Sarabi and Nyota—gathered closely around Sarafina and her daughter. Nyota crept as closely as she dared, her face relaxed and happy. Sarabi was standing by her side, countenance oddly intense as the same thoughts ran through her head. Why… Why was she here, of all places?

Nala remained silent, as if worried that she would be in trouble. She slinked backwards in fear, eventually bumping into another huntress, who smiled at her warmly in encouragement.

"It's okay, sweetie, you can tell your mommy."

Nyota's sweet, empathetic voice broke through the short silence. Nala looked around, contemplating them, and understanding that no harm was going to come to her. She was finally safe among her family…

"Where was Zira? Wasn't she with you?"

"I…" the cub stammered, looking baffled, "I thought she went on the hunting trip."

Sarabi looked over at Sarafina in confusion, but the leader of the day's hunting party merely looked back in worry and denial. Zira had _not _been on the hunt. There were now two conflicting stories as to where she had spent the day; Nala and Sarabi had thought she was on the hunting trip. Sarafina and the others had thought she was at Pride Rock. And right now, she was at neither. Zira was missing.

Something was going on. Sarafina and Zira were certainly going to have a long… _talk_… once this was over. That is, if she even came back.

"No, she didn't come with me. Are you sure she wasn't at Pride Rock, sweetie?"

"Yeah," the cub replied sheepishly, barely keeping herself from physically backing away another few steps. "Positive…" she trailed off, distracted, as if deciding what she should say. "Can you take me home? It's really scary out here. And I don't want Scar to come back again."

Sarabi's face instantly dropped in shock and horror. Sarafina, on the other hand, was clearly a little slow, as she was feeling a bit emotional over the whole incident.

"Of course we will take you home, dear. Don't you worry abo—wait, _what_?"

The cub watched in fear as her mother's face also took on a look of serious intensity, as if not understanding the words that had just come out of her daughter's mouth.

"I found Scar in the pantry and then he ran after me," she mumbled in her usual, innocent tone. "And Mufasa came and chased him away. I tried to follow, but I got lost. I haven't seen either of them since it happened… I'm sorry, mommy. I shouldn't have left."

"It's okay, dear," Sarafina uttered half-heartedly, protectively embracing her small daughter, who quickly wrapped herself around her mother's strong forelegs. "Just don't do that again; we were searching for hours. You had us all very worried."

"The whole pride is in danger now. We can't let this happen again. And if anyone finds Zira… she'd better have a reason for all this," Sarabi growled darkly from the place where she was standing, interrupting the silent moment that mother and cub had shared, and pointedly ignoring Nala's fearful retreat further towards her mother at the harsh, raspy sound of her voice. The older lioness dragged her claw steadily across the ground, barely registering the nods and grunts of agreement from the other lionesses.

"Sarabi's right," Nyota responded in her usual shy, almost silent, way.

"We saw Mufasa after the hunting party. And that means… did he find Scar?" Another huntress piped up from somewhere towards the back of the congregation.

"There's only one way to find out," Sarabi smiled, an uncharacteristically twisted, vengeful grin spreading across her face. Several of the lionesses took a step back, surprised at her sudden and unusual change in demeanor.

"Sarafina, take your daughter home…" she began in her old, authoritative way, quickly assuming the position as the leader of the small, huddled group. If there was one prospective thing that brought out her darker, stronger side… it was the chance for revenge against the lion who had purposefully and single-handedly ruined her entire life. "…And make sure she is safe. Nyota, look after the cubs back at Pride Rock. Make sure _none _of them leave. Usiku, I want you to ask Mufasa everything he knows; but keep it discreet. And the rest of you… follow me."

The lionesses stood silently, staring at their former leader in confusion. Several moments seemed to pass as they struggled to accept exactly what was happening.

"Come," she motioned with a grunt to her reluctant followers, as if she was merely leading another hunting party. "We will finish what Mufasa started. We will save our pride and end this… once and for all."

* * *

><p><em>So, what happens next? Scar looks like he's in trouble yet again... :p And what will happen to Zira? Anyone want to take a guess? xD If you guess correctly you get this *holds up a chocolate cake from Trader Joe's* Don't be shy. :D<em>

_Twin out ;)_


	9. Survival of the Quickest

**_A/N: _**

_(Hey everyone. :p Yes, I did change my pen name. You can still call me Twin though, since Gemini means twin in Latin and Gemelo means twin in Spanish. lol XD)_

_Yeesh, well that certainly took long enough. o.o Not like I should be the one complaining though. But, for the record, I blame school. Yeah. xD Also, my 14th birthday was on the 17th. :D For those of you that care. Just figured you should know, even though that was... heh... like three weeks ago. Next update will be quicker; besides, things heat up after this. :p Lastly, I made the title cover for this on Paint and posted it. It's a wildebeest hoof with blood and tears on it... XD What? I thought it was fitting. :p Anyways, review time. _

**_anon: _**_Oh trust me, I have... certain things... planned for Sarabi. XD You'll see; in the meantime, glad you like it. And thanks for reviewing. :p_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Oh, really? XD I kind of wanted to throw it in there, but thought it would be superfluous. :p I agree that things look bleak for them. :/ Especially for her, since she is just being used by Scar at this point. I'm glad you like Nyota; she's in this chapter too. XD_

**_kate: _**_I tried to hurry, but... bleh. XD Oh well. It's finally here. :D_

**_Reldor: _**_Then take a stab at what you think will happen. Don't be shy. :p And you get a piece simply because you make me laugh with pretty much all of your reviews. XD *hands a piece*_

**_mom: _**_Glad you liked it. XD Seems like so long ago that I wrote it though. :/ Anyways, you get a piece of cake because one of your guesses was correct, if I remember. _

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_I thought that would be something Scar would do as well (hence why I wrote it that way, lol). :p I'm glad you liked it; the imagery took me a while, if I remember. I always feel obligated to describe *everything*, although I suppose that's much better than nothing at all. -.o And sweet! My friend has a bearded dragon too. :D At least... I think it's a bearded dragon. lol xD_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Okay, so throwing up in your mouth is a... good... thing? XD jk lol ...Though I guess I already responded to your review, so I won't say anymore. Glad you liked the chapter. ;)_

**_NinaRoja: _**_Thank you! Glad to know you liked it. :) Enjoy the chapter._

**_Seph4evr: _**_*silently hands a piece of cake* Shhhhhh... XD_

**_Bry: _**_Hey duff! Icey is glad to see you reviewing. XD *happy face* Thanks for reading, and I'm glad you liked it. :) Oh and btw, is that teatree still bothering you? I'm just curious... lol _

_Well, without further ado, on with the story. :p_

* * *

><p>Zira had made it most of the way back to Pride Rock, still somewhat confused as to why there seemed to be no lionesses in the Pridelands at all. She had not smelled or heard a single other being during the whole of her silent trek from the Outlands. There was almost no activity. No noises except the light, barely audible sounds of her own footprints, and the consistent chirps of the crickets. Her eyes narrowed seriously, the blood-red irises appearing smaller around a set of thick, dilating pupils. A morose expression assumed itself on her face as she slowed down, and finally halted, behind a patch of scrub. The young lioness peered through the intertwined brambles, ears twitching nervously in an attempt to pick up any traces of sound she could find.<p>

She smelled the stash before she saw it. Hours of lying in the sun had made the meat little more than a putrid heap of rotting flesh. Flies were actively swarming around the pile, and Zira was honestly shocked that a flock of vultures hadn't come and completely devoured it by now.

_Oh well, meat is meat. From what Shenzi told me, the hyenas would eat rocks if they were convinced that they were edible…_

But something seemed to stir in the night. The previously calm, clear air quickly became agitated and unsettled. In a matter of moments, the chirping of the crickets was becoming drowned out by a rush of air coming from downhill. A headwind began to rustle through the bushes, ruffling her pale fur subtly in the darkness. Several leaves were dislodged from the shrubs in front of her, flying past her shivering body as she crouched low to the ground, trying to escape the worst of the now dusty, cold air. Several moments passed, but it seemed as though the unexpected gust was only intensifying instead of dying down. Small branches began to be windswept and carried away in addition to the leaves, many of them smacking her squarely in the face and legs. She growled irritably, gritting her teeth, barely able to move as more dust and plant matter was gathered in the gale. Zira closed her eyes, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in them as a group of insects also collided with her body.

She couldn't hear anything but the low, whooshing sound of the air rushing past her ears. Without knowing why, she walked blindly forwards through the savanna, snarling in irritation as the vicious bite of the airstream sliced through her pelt. Zira wasn't aware of what was happening. After about thirty seconds of this spontaneous gust, the wind died down enough for her to be able to listen to her surroundings without difficulty. And this was when she finally picked up the quiet, quick padding of paws from several sets of seemingly surreptitious lionesses.

Zira instinctively jumped back into the brush, intent on hiding herself from view, but she knew it was too late. Her scent had no doubt been blown very strongly in their direction; it was only a matter of time, if they hadn't detected her already. All she could do was watch as four shadowed silhouettes, breathless and reeking of sweat, jogged rapidly towards Pride Rock. She didn't know how long they had been running, or even from where they had come, but it was evident that they had been trotting at their current, quick pace for some time now. One of the figures Zira instantly recognized as Sarafina, who was carrying Nala's limp form delicately in her jaws. She ambled along wordlessly, and her relief was clear even from a distance. Nyota's pale young figure, instantly visible as it reflected the bright light of the moon, had made its way to the front of the group enthusiastically; her head was still held high, lengthy strides gracefully crossing the patchy, beaten ground as she silently motioned for the others to increase their speed.

"What's that? I smell something…"

A dark-pelted lioness, old and wizened by age, stopped to intently sniff the air. Zira hadn't even caught sight of her at first—she blended in perfectly with the long, inky shadows splattered and cast across the ground by the brightened orb in the sky. She vaguely remembered the lioness' name, as she had joined the pride as an adult rogue a few years before...

Usiku. Night. And she was aptly named, her coat being as close to coal black as any Zira had ever seen. She seemed like something of a genetic fluke, as none of her cubs had shared the same trait. The pale lioness, already hidden by the small crest of a hill, nonetheless retreated farther into the bushes, strangely intimidated by this living shadow and the rest of her party.

"The night is quiet yet. It's probably nothing," Nyota suggested calmly, something in her look revealing dedication and complete focus on whatever it was they were attempting to set about doing. Perhaps she didn't think it was nothing; but, in any case, she would ignore any nuances for the sake of time.

"Smells like meat. It's… _rank_… How can you not smell that?"

Usiku shot a piercing, suspicious glance at Nyota, and Zira breathed a sigh of relief; she had forgotten that her scent had probably been masked by the sharp odor of blood and the stench of rotten flesh.

The whole procession rapidly made its way past her hiding spot. But it didn't mean she was out of danger of being detected. She still had to find a way to collect the pile and locate the hyenas, before they found Scar…

But the lionesses didn't leave. Even Nyota stopped and studied the mound of dead prey, confusion unanimously written across their faces as they stopped and pondered why exactly it was there. This would be harder than she thought…

_No, no, don't look at the meat. Keep going, move away from the pile…_

"What is this? Who left food out here to rot…?"

One of the lionesses in the group queried irritably, the rest narrowing their eyes in annoyance and shaking their heads sadly. Sarafina dropped Nala on the ground and whispered a few words to her, whereupon she obediently traversed the rocky slopes surrounding the cubs' sleeping cave and entered the dark expanse within it. Her mother watched the cub from afar, and, finally convinced of her safety, gathered next to her two companions.

"Wasn't any of us," Nyota uttered in a self-assured manner, glancing between the others to affirm her statement as they nodded agreeably.

"So… should we ask Mufasa? That's what we were _supposed _to do anyways," Sarafina, silent up until that moment, spoke up in a less than cheerful tone, the glint of her sharp fangs vaguely visible even from Zira's faraway lookout.

"Yes. I'll go get him," Nyota spoke in her trademark soft way, decidedly taking action as she padded away, her sweaty form slowly becoming less and less noticeable as she treaded almost silently towards the sleeping cave, taking care to keep quiet even though the whole situation couldn't possibly end well…

"Wait," Usiku muttered slowly, tilting her head questioningly at the other two lionesses gathered to her left and right. "Didn't Nala say that Scar attacked her in the pantry? Is… _this_… what he was doing?" she spat her words out angrily, causing her companions to cringe slightly as she batted her paw at the mound irritably.

…_They're on to him…_

"That scoundrel _is_ probably starving to death. He was never the best hunter. I don't know why he'd take so much, though…"

Sarafina spoke up again with a halfhearted scowl, shoulders hunched as she gazed at the meat stolidly, waiting for Mufasa to arrive. Finally, after several moments of waiting, the patriarch was seen, his huge, powerful body plodding slowly across the thin layer of dirt which separated him from the huntresses. He glanced up at them confusedly, his drooping features expressing his weary attitude as he paused next to them, tired and clearly very distressed. The lionesses respectfully parted to give him space, hoping that he was in one of his more attentive moments as he stood there with a quizzical expression written on his face. Usiku opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again, not able to think of anything that she could say as she glanced around her concernedly.

"Do you know why this is here?" Nyota queried somewhat bashfully, backing up a few steps away from the monarch as they waited, not knowing whether his blank stare was a product of thoughtfulness and lucidity or complete emptiness and inattention.

"No," he stated hollowly, voice booming with such power that each of the lionesses backed up another step. There was a tense moment as they watched him, waiting to see if there was anything else he would say. For several seconds he stood there, as unmoving as a block of ice, and the lionesses were beginning to think that perhaps this was a waste of time after all…

"No…" he repeated, his tone of voice considerably less vapid as he focused on the half-circle of huntresses and the meat in front of him, taking a rigid step forwards as he studied it closely, as if hoping to find something enlightening about it. "…But I have no doubts that my brother had something to do with it," he uttered calmly as he circled around the flesh mound, a more profound intensity slowly overtaking his features.

"But he's so small and scrawny. I don't think he could eat that much before it rotted away, could he?" Sarafina asked half-skeptically, as if she wasn't quite sure of the answer herself.

"Perhaps not," came their leader's steady reply as he squinted, eyes narrowing as he continued to pace around and around…

"Maybe it isn't for him. Maybe it's for… someone else," he stopped in his tracks, lifting up his head as he looked up worriedly at Sarafina. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on, exactly who it was for, but something about it put him vaguely at unease…

_They can't know about the hyenas_, Zira thought in a panic, her face contorting into a worried and flustered expression. _They can't know Scar was fraternizing with them; not after what they did._

She didn't stop and think—her impatience was getting the best of her—but she knew she had to act. To convince them that they were wrong. That it wasn't Scar who had brought the meat out into the open at all. And to find a way to make away with it. She had to do whatever necessary; besides, is not a part of love undying devotion?

Zira made her decision, and withdrew from the brush fearlessly, a look of silent contempt on her face as she ambled towards them nonchalantly. She said nothing, ignoring the pointed looks of surprise and shock as she traversed the dry, dust-covered slope in front of her. No words were spoken for several moments, even on the part of the other lionesses, who were too confused to do anything. Naturally, however, Sarafina spoke up first.

"Z-Zira? What the _hell _are you doing here? Where have you been?"

The huntresses crowded together defensively, teeth bore and snarling in red-hot anger. Zira, however, was not looking for a fight. Not here, not now. All she thought about was what Scar would do… She had to be clever, and find a way to deflect their anger. Although she wasn't much good at this, she could try her best.

"What do you mean?" she said a little too innocently, "I was on the hunt, but I got lost and separated from all of you. None of you came to search for me!"

"_You weren't supposed to be on the hunt_," her adversary responded sharply, clearly not caring whether or not Zira's little lie was truth. "You were supposed to be here, but you left!"

A murmur of approval was heard throughout the little group, and Zira could already see that this was not going to end well…

"Curses on you, Zira!" Usiku growled in her usual unsettling and intimidating way, clearly outraged, taking an aggressive step towards the single, defiant form of the pale lioness across from her. Nyota visibly cringed, not used to hearing her companion use such irreverent language. Even Mufasa looked up in surprise, though he did appear to be nodding his head slightly in agreement…

Zira tried to retort something back, but it was no use, as she was again interrupted before she could even think of what to say.

"You left an innocent cub to die!" Nyota responded in a much calmer, more rational tone of voice. But even she seemed to be possessed by a sort of disappointed frustration, as though she were dealing with a disobedient child. "How dare you?"

At this, a flurry of unintelligible and indistinct voices assailed her at once, and it was certain that, had Mufasa not been standing peacefully by, the argument would have quickly degraded into a violent scrapping of claws. She could say nothing, do nothing… At this point, it was questionable whether or not she would get back to the dark lion, and in time…

_I'm sorry, Scar, _she thought desperately as the king stepped forwards, silencing the voices around him as he looked at her sternly, _but I'll be longer than you thought._

"Zira," he looked at her with a sort of understanding, almost sympathetic glance, "times are trying right now. And we need everyone to remain strong. There is no room for weak links, no room for rashness and irresponsibility…" he spaced out slightly, his words trailing off as he stood there, solid as a stone, in front of three snarling lionesses, ready to pass judgment… She shifted her weight uneasily, still hoping beyond hope that she could find a way to bring the meat back, even though she would be lucky if she was allowed in the Pridelands any longer…

_Hang in there, my love._

* * *

><p><em>So, what's going to happen now? :) Scar's POV next, though it seems things are looking pretty bad for him... : Anyways, I just planned out each chapter up to Chapter 19, and I have to say that things get exciting really soon. So stay tuned. :p Unless you want to miss out on plenty of drama, a death or two, some chase scenes, flashbacks, and a battle. :D Who the conflicts are between and how they came about, though, I won't say; you'll have to read and find out. ;) And don't forget to review before you leave. (:_

_Oh, and there is one more thing I would like to say. It's about my poll, "Which genre next?" Well, it's closed. It seems as though drama/tragedy won, so drama/tragedy it will be. XD The fic won't be published until it is finished (which will probably be after this one is finished), but I have thought about this one particular idea for a while, and think I have it pretty concrete. It's going pretty well-over 4,500 words have already been written. And this rate, it's going to be very long though, so be prepared. In any case, I will begin leaving clues and hints at the ends of updates, as well as on my profile, so if you are curious... stay tuned. Only one person knows what it is about so far... you know who you are. :p Don't tell anyone. ;o_

_-Twin out (;_


	10. We've Got a Possible Jumper

**_A/N:_**

_It's me; I'm back. :p For nothing other than posting Chapter 10 of my favorite story. And it's only been 23 days since my last update...! xD Meh... I'll hurry next time I guess. Wouldn't want to keep you guys waiting. (:_

_Okay, so remember I kinda said I had up to Chapter 19 planned? Well, that's wrong-this and Chapter 11 were supposed to be one chapter (this chapter). But, as it stands now, excluding author's notes, it's already over 2,500 words. And adding these, it'll be pretty sizable. And it would be twice as long if I actually wrote that part. x) Not to mention I'm really impatient and wanted to publish, so... *slaps self* Whatever, I guess it works better this way, since it makes it a longer story than I planned. :D Guaranteed this story will be over 20 chapters... and it will probably number about 35 or 40 when it's all said and done (just guessing). So stay tuned. :p Review time._

**_Reldor: _**_Yeah, digital cake tends to do that. x) It still tastes good, though, I promise. :D And nosedive it did-if she were in an airplane, she would be dead. Kaboom. O.o_

**_kate: _**_I tried to hurry. But some really good chapters are coming, I promise. lol_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_He is indeed. xD But hey, maybe it will work out for the better? Or maybe not... we'll have to see. :p And thanks; glad you liked it. xD Your reviews mean a lot. (:_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Aww, thank you, Snappy. (: Hoping you like this one too. _

**_can'tthinkofasuitableusername: _**_Thank you so much-reviews like yours totally make my day! (: I hope you keep reading, and that you enjoy my other fics. :D Some of them are a little old though, lol. xD_

**_Anonymouse: _**_Glad you like that about this story. (: Actually, that's very, very funny you should say that. Ed was going to make his first appearance next chapter (although now it might get pushed back to Chapter 12... xD). He plays a bigger part in the story than you might think. ;) And thanks for the belated birthday wishes. :D_

**_mom: _**_Thanks, and glad you liked the name change. :D I was worried no one would be able to find me, but that didn't actually seem to be a problem. xD_

**_Ceu Praca: _**_Thanks so much for all of your reviews you've given me-I'm really grateful for that. (: And it's all good. xD Nice to hear you sympathize with Scar, since that's kind of the point. lol But Mufasa's a main character in the story too, so... hope all of your favorites are in here. :p Minus Simba, I guess. XD Haha._

* * *

><p>The tree next to Scar was suitably large—about ten feet in diameter—and of an acceptable height. It lay there in the soil next to him, leafless branches worming their way through the still air, the whole tree itself growing, little by little, day by day… Of course, such changes were too gradual and miniscule for the lion to notice, unless he were to wait there in the same spot for months—obviously a ridiculous endeavor by any definition. And considering he might not even be alive tomorrow, it didn't seem even remotely possible.<p>

However, all of this was only a mild sort of thoughtless curiosity, probably brought about by the long spells of waiting. He hadn't wanted to leave the area where Zira had left him, somehow worried that she wouldn't be able to find him otherwise. Though her skills as a tracker had already been proven, he simply decided it would be the best and easiest option to stay nearby, in the great swath of the Pridelands which rested near the border. Hence where the tree came in.

Earlier, he had been able to smell the hyenas advancing into the Pridelands. For obvious reasons, he was clearly doubtful that any of their intentions were benevolent in nature. However, being aware of the fact that hyenas could not climb if their lives and limbs depended on it, he found that it would be advantageous to remain sitting motionless next to a tree. Being a skilled climber, he could easily retreat into the canopy of the sprawling branches at the slightest hint of danger, leaving the hyenas to infuriate themselves by vainly setting out to claw up the tough bark and the sheer rough surface.

But now something was different. The hyenas had, little by little, retreated, almost as though an invisible force was pushing them backwards towards the Outlands. It was suspicious, even strangely unsettling in a way. The chirping of the crickets, which had been continuing for so long that he had ceased to notice it, was dying down, and a complete silence was beginning to manifest itself in the moonlit savanna.

Silence. In all directions. The only respite from the lack of sound was the faint rustle of the wind, which was—wait, rustle of the wind?

No. That couldn't be. There were no gusts rushing through the savanna. The air was as still and thick as an oven. Scar could see nothing but grass, even in the light of the moon, and all he had to go by were his ears, which had barely caught that same stir in the grass. It seemed little more than suspicious. Until, of course, he heard a nearly identical sound coming from a completely different direction…

Scar crouched slightly, prepared to leap into the tree, before stopping himself. These weren't hyenas. Hyenas never even _tried _to stay hidden when they stalked something. Not to mention that the hyenas near the Outlands had inexplicably began to retreat. Perhaps they sensed something that Scar didn't. Something that scared them. And if the hyenas were that afraid of something, then maybe he should be as well…

Yes, he definitely should be. Because, at that moment, a very fast and very outraged Sarabi was barreling right towards him. Forgetting what he had just told himself, he leapt into the tree as his instincts demanded, before realizing that lionesses could climb. Some of them better than he himself could…

The next few seconds had passed by blearily before he realized that he was at the top of the canopy already. And Sarabi was about halfway up the tree herself, quickly ascending… But her body was significantly heavier, and she had a harder time climbing the lighter branches. One of them snapped, nearly sending her crashing to the ground. Yet the lioness clung defiantly to the tree—a little too close for comfort—and was barely hanging on to a thin remnant of a branch that stuck out of the tree's knotted, knobby bark.

The other lionesses were still on the ground, pointedly less enthusiastic about climbing the tall tree—even if it was to catch the lion that murdered Sarabi's son. She could handle it on her own, couldn't she? Besides, most of them were too tired after the hunt, then searching for Nala, and _then _searching for _this _lion… Sarabi, however, more than made up for their lack of enthusiasm as a whole.

"Raahhhhhh! Get down here! Mufasa may have spared your pathetic little life, but I sure _won't_!"

She scrapped at the side of the tree, trying to climb up a little farther. Scar didn't see much opportunity for escape. Unless, of course, he jumped…

The lion looked down to see if that was indeed possible. Most of the trees near or in the Outlands weren't actually that big—yet this one was still tall enough to hurt if he jumped out of it. Indeed, after several seconds of looking down, the ground seemed to be shifting itself farther and farther away… he felt dizzy suddenly, not to mention trapped…

"Come down here so I can show you the _pain_ you caused me all this time!" she found another tree limb with her paw and hoisted herself up, just a… _little_… farther… "I'll rip your head clean off your shoulders!"

He clung desperately to the tallest branch, too high above the ground for him not to notice. His fur was bristling wildly and he was practically doubled over, trying to keep his grip on the bough, which had begun to sway… up and down… up and down…

Scar looked back. He shouldn't have, but… he was afraid, and so he did anyways. Sarabi was only two branches below him, trying to worm her way up beside him. The lion could see her clearly. He could see the horrible, twisted grimace which had taken over her expression. And those claws… long, curved, sharp… those years of being a huntress no doubt meant that she knew how to use them.

"Get back!" he growled sharply, trying to look intimidating, despite the fact that he couldn't stop himself from reflexively inching away. In actuality, it was clearly obvious that the situation was in her favor from the very beginning.

Her only reply was another snarl. Sarabi batted harshly at the branch he was seeking refuge on, causing several leaves to fall as the swaying increased its horrifying intensity. And if that wasn't enough, the wind was significantly more noticeable at his current high altitude, and a gust of it had started to rustle through the highest, lightest growth of the canopy.

_I have to jump… I have to jump… !_

"RRRRAAAAAHHHHHH!"

_I can't jump… that's _insane_… I'd die… _

"Get… down here!" she growled with the effort of pulling herself up, just one branch below Scar, who watched warily as the branch he was on _creaked_… Surely enough, the limb began to crack. This—_all of this_—was nearing the breaking point. Sarabi slashed at the trunk of the tree, stripping it of much of its bark and leaving long gashes in her wake. Scar watched with a shiver. If she could do _that _to the rock-hard bark, then chances were she would be able to rend his flesh like paper…

The lioness chose her path as carefully as her rage allowed, trying not to snap the branches under her with her large paws and hooked claws. Slowly she climbed up onto the last limb, his last line of protection… and stalked her way towards his huddled, disheveled form.

"_Get back!_" he panicked, with more fear than assertiveness in his voice. "_Back!_" He growled, though it didn't discourage her in the slightest—if anything, it only pushed her forwards. Apparently she had sensed his distress, and was taking advantage of it in the worst way possible. Indeed, whatever scraps of intelligence her raving form still possessed told her quite clearly that creeping forwards any farther towards her prey would be deadly. And her hunting instincts only served to back up this point—she had him trapped, so why advance any farther? Instead, she batted at the branch, smiling wickedly as it cracked and swayed more and more…

He was like a cat. Treed. He looked down at the ground, which could have been a mile away for all he knew. If he jumped, he would probably break something—at _least_. Presumably, the lionesses would swarm over him like ants over honey. This didn't look good…

_Swishaswishaswisha._

The leaves on the branch were quickly shaken off the tree, gradually amassing a green pile on the ground. Sarabi paid little attention to him at this point, merely waiting and watching as he neared the precipitous point where the fragile balance of the situation would all come tumbling down…

"_S-s-stop! You don't know what you're doing!"_

It was a lie; he had yelled completely out of his own anguish. In fact, she understood perfectly well the consequences of what came next. She only smiled as the branch cracked again and again, and after a few moments the limb of the tree bent suddenly and at an awkward angle—with Scar in tow. The lion clutched wildly at the bough, despite the fact that it would not offer him sanctuary for very much longer. For a moment, he nearly lost his hold and plummeted to the hard, unforgiving ground… but at the last moment his claws found the branch, and he had just enough of a grip to allow his whole body to hang deleteriously off of it. Sarabi stopped for a moment, seemingly drinking in the helpless form of her prey.

Only Scar was not helpless—mentally, at least. Though he may have been stranded in the branch, he could still use what little he had… his wits. Although Sarabi was by no means an unintelligent lioness under normal circumstances, he could tell immediately that the hard work of the hunt, the lack of sleep as she prowled through the savanna, and her unbridled rage as she ran at him had had an effect on her powers of thought. Perhaps, if he found a way to get to the ground, he could escape. None of the lionesses there looked like they were ready for a chase. The only problem lied in how to get out of the tree without injuring himself significantly…

The uncharacteristically enraged lioness again swatted at the limb, causing the already existent crack in it to deepen. The bending of the bough became even more profound, and Scar could feel his grasp weakening even more. But there was one other branch on that side of the tree he could realistically jump to. One. The rest were too far away. There was no way he could slowly descend down to the ground either—especially not with Sarabi, who could clearly climb competently. But that one branch remained there, solid and unbroken. At least it could buy him a few minutes… he would rather be _anywhere_ than the bare, leaf-stripped branch he was stranded on.

He leapt at it haphazardly and without thinking, limbs sprawled out as he sailed through the air for a brief moment. The desperate lion reached for it, trying to grab at it with his clawed paws, though perhaps, on second thought, it was actually a lot closer than it seem—

_Smack._

Scar had jumped too far, and the large tree limb had smacked him squarely in the chest, instantly knocking the air out of him. The impact had hardly moved the branch, which was as tough and resolute as a boulder—although many of the leaves had been rustled off of it, that was the only change that had occurred from the collision. He hung there for a moment, dazed and gasping for breath, but then he slowly began to fall backwards, off of the branch…

He clawed at it half-heartedly, still not quite able to respire properly, and missed. The sky above him seemed to stretch farther and farther away as he toppled towards the ground, now at the mercy of gravity alone. Scar flipped himself over in midair, hoping to land on his feet, and crashed into several small, leafy twigs on the way down. At least that would break his fall somewhat, although he was clearly moving pretty fast if he was able to completely snap them off of the tree, leaves and all…

Wonderful. He was nearing the bottom already. He had to think quickly, although at this point there didn't seem like much he could realistically do. Scar clawed at the tree zealously, though it did little to stop his descent—it only left long gashes in the bark. For a moment he braced himself, looking down at the rapidly approaching ground. The lionesses were sitting quietly, merely watching confusedly as they witnessed everything unfolding. Yes, the lionesses, the hard, rocky ground which was coming closer, and the pile of leaves which had been knocked and blown off of the tree limbs and had collected a little ways away…

Wait. The leaves.

Scar again scrapped at the tree, trying to dig into its knotted surface and slow his descent, and leaving long cuts in the process. But there… below him… a much larger branch was approaching him as he fell faster and faster.

_Slam!_

He collided with the branch for less than a second. It wasn't enough to get a hold of the limb and stay there, but that was it. That was all he needed. For that second he slowed significantly, whirled around, and then pushed off of the trunk of the tree with his hind legs.

For the next several seconds he was in the air, moving away from the tree. The lionesses gaped in confusion and wonder, as if he had been a shooting star rather than a terrorized, desperate lion who was on a collision course with the ground. All he could hope was that he didn't jump too far, or not far enough…

_Flumph…_

Scar landed directly in the bed of leaves, which had cushioned his fall much like a pillow. His forward momentum, however, caused him to bounce, and he subsequently whirled through the air as though he had been tossed another several feet. He finally came to rest—which is putting it lightly, considering he was still moving quite quickly—on the hard, parched ground about ten feet away from the lionesses. Accompanied, of course, by a harsh _smack_ as his side crashed into the ground. Pain shot instantly throughout his chest, and he vaguely presumed that he must have bruised a rib. In any case, that's what it felt like to him… but he was still alive, at least. Now that he thought about it more, a straight leap from the canopy of that tree would probably have been deadly. His jump, as it was, was death-defying. Had he landed on his feet, he probably would have broken something—but his limbs were uninjured, and it was only a matter of seconds before he was on his feet and running for his life.

The lionesses glanced around at each other tiredly, eyes drooping and faces pointedly unenthusiastic, but after several seconds they finally gave chase. Sarabi cursed loudly from her spot in the tree, and without much though she bounded back down to the ground as quickly as she could. Which wasn't that fast, as it turned out—the tree was tall and hard to safely traverse. Scar had merely gotten lucky, and it was this fact in particular that infuriated her as she prepared to pursue him.

"Hey, get back here, you waste of fur!"

* * *

><p><em>Alright, I've got more to say here... I know what you're thinking-I write a ton in the Author's Notes. Sorry 'bout that. x) In any case, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that all of you reading this like the story at least to some extent... considering you've read this far and all. But that is irrelevant.<em>

_I should point out that I will probably not be posting any new fics (minus one-shots) until Trampled is finished. Preferably Instigation will be finished by then as well and Truth or Dare will be a large part of the way done. I want to have my current fics done in a timely fashion. At this rate, it will take... well, forever. e.e But I will finish eventually. However, that doesn't mean that I won't be working on other fics in the meantime... I simply won't post them until they are **completely **finished. That way there is no more lagging. Information about stories I am/will be working on is in my profile, so feel free to check that out. ;) I will try to update the list often. :p_

_But what were we talking about...? Oh yes, Trampled. This fic is about 1/3 or 1/4 of the way done, by my estimates. May seem like a long way out (especially at my sluggish rate), but I personally think that soon it will be time to decide something-should there be a sequel? A poll is already in my profile asking this very question, so feel free to vote. It might be a little early to tell, and you can only vote once... so it may not be a good idea if you aren't sure yet. The poll will be up for a long itme (probably at least until the story is finished). I have a vague idea of what the sequel could be about, though I will not say. To be honest, I've known how this story will end since the beginning when I started writing, although I doubt any of you would be able to figure it out. :/ So again, this might be a little early... but if you feel strongly one way or the other, that option is available. (:_

_Grr... enough ranting. I'm probably boring you. x) Just review on the way out. :p *waves*_

_-Twin out ;)_


	11. Fast and Furious

**_A/N:_**

_Yay; I'm back! And with a quick update that didn't take eons! Rejoice! xD Anyways... I have great news. Like I was saying last chapter, I didn't want to put off Scar's encounter with the hyenas any longer. So I went and freaking worked my butt off to get to that point. And it's finished! _

_Minor problem: it's 5,500 words. So, in the end, what was supposed to be one chapter (last chapter) is now going to be a three-parter! Simply because I didn't want to bore you all with a big honking thing like that. O.o (Also, I should get more reviews that way and find out how I did... xD)_

_Even better news: since I have Chapter 10 part 3 (chapter 12... whatever you want to call it) all typed up, I can release it whenever I want! Expect an update tomorrow or Saturday. (:_

_Review time._

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Glad you liked it. I like to think that my stuff is unique (despite being fanfiction, obviously), but actually hearing it from someone who presumably reads more than I do is nice. I've never read a ff piece about a chase up a tree either, but that could just be me. xD ...And yeah, I know what you mean. lol_

**_ArizonaSivy: _**_Yeah, logorrhea is a problem for me. But that's what makes it unique (so I've heard xD). Glad you felt that way-that was the desired intention. :p I had fun writing that part, haha. xD _

**_IronicSnap: _**_Yay, that was my intention! :D It looks like I might have succeeded. xD More tension this chapter, hopefully. And I'm surprised someone as eloquent as you is already up to word #4 (5 because of Twist xD)... I had to look up esoteric when you PMed me. lol_

**_Ceu Praca: _**_Thanks; I am glad to hear that. (: Thank you for the motivation. Sarabi is supposed to be scary in this... more stuff happens to her in future time. Hmmmm... :p_

**_Guest: _**_Hmmm, sad that they changed everyone's anonymous names to Guest... -.- It bothers me. But anyways... I can still tell it's kate! lol Thanks for the motivation. (: Hope you like this chapter._

**_mom: _**_Nah, I just love him because he's adorable. And smart. And... oh well, I'm gushing now. At least I try to remain impartial in my writing... I hope that shows; I don't want to be biased._

**_Reldor: _**_...You always make me laugh. xD lol You get a cookie just for that comment. On a side note... I don't think I've told you this before, but I adore your dragon avi. :3_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Good. (: Really hope you keep reading and enjoy this chapter. Thanks for the review and the motivation-glad to hear my efforts came out in the desired way. :D_

* * *

><p>"Say, do you smell that, Vuur?"<p>

"Smell what, Tydige? I don't smell anything."

The trio of hyenas paused near the border, sick of waiting around for something to happen. It was nearly dawn already, but, unlike many of the free hyenas, they were not asleep; in fact, they were known throughout the pack for their crepuscular nature and their habit of wandering around at night. For most of their time together that evening, they had merely been pacing around aimlessly and killing time, as their orders were quite clear: _stay in the Outlands_. But it had been hours, and the waiting was beginning to get ridiculous.

"Well, you're old. You never smell anything."

The oldest hyena growled and rolled his eyes, irritated. Tydige paused for a moment before lifting his head to the wind, trying to sniff and detect whatever it was that had bothered him.

"Well, what is it, _wise one_?" Vuur interjected bluntly, face bore into a short-tempered grimace. This was not the time for pranks. If he had to remain there any longer or put up with anything more, he would probably beat someone or something up… heck, if Tydige weren't his friend he would have shown his fangs a long time ago…

"You sm—eeeeek—ell something, Ty? It smells like—"

"_Shhhhhh_… Shut it, Asokai," Tydige spat out with a flippant and dismissive wave of his paw, "I'm trying to focus." The middle hyena closed his eyes, trying to detect something in the breeze.

"Yeah, shut up, 'Sokai," Vuur interjected flatly, before stopping his forward tread and sitting by his companions.

"Hey! Hey, hey! We got him! We got him! Haha-_ha!_" Tydige laughed lightheartedly before turning around and giving his younger companion an overenthusiastic shake—which actually scared the wits out of the poor and already confused adolescent hyena. "After all this time too!"

"W—eeeep—W-what? Who did we catch? What'd we do?" Asokai blurted out half-heartedly, his head wobbling back and forth from the jolt as he waited for his older friend to release him.

"Scar! I smell him! He's running from some lionesses: right towards us!"

Vuur perked up slightly, ears flicking forwards as he suspiciously studied the now-dancing form in front of him. "Really?" he paused, brow furrowing as he cocked his head at him confusedly. "Don't you think we should go?"

"I-I dunno, I thought w—eeeep—e were told to stay put…"

"Well, you two can argue amongst yourselves. I'm leaving!" Tydige pressed forwards jubilantly, a wide grin on his face as he began to bound out of view. Vuur trotted alongside his companion, trying to keep up, before edging in front of him.

"I agree. We should leave."

Asokai still looked unsure, shuffling nervously from foot to foot, not wanting to disobey…

"I-I-I… d—"

"Come on, 'Sokai. You'll be fine. Besides, I smell other hyenas moving towards the south." Vuur stated blandly in an attempt to allay the fears of the youngest hyena. Asokai hesitated, but finally followed cautiously behind his friends. Tydige, in the meantime, was ahead of them and already creeping out of view.

"At least we'll finally settle this," the middle hyena spoke silently, creeping forwards into the night, almost out of earshot and practically deaf to the entreaties of the other two hyenas.

"Hey, 'Dige, wait up!"

* * *

><p>It was still a late night in the savanna. All was silent, and the northern edge of the Pridelands was as quiet and mostly dim as it usually was—only the waning light of the full moon acted as a potential light source to any creature attempting to travel through the lands. The grass wavered with the gentle touch of the wind, dancing and shining reflectively in the luminescence coating the ground. A few nocturnal insects and small mammals crawled about, sniffing around through tunnels in the dirt, searching for food.<p>

This night was silent and peaceful—and it certainly didn't seem like a night for a chase. But there was one nonetheless, carrying on relatively quietly in the wide expanses of the African plains. Animals scurried and hid from view as the shimmering pelts of a group of lions flashed by and quickly retreated out of view. They were merely blurs: quick flashes of light and dark contrasting with the looming, vast nature of the evening, which was now in the pit of its most shadowed hue. Yet, despite all appearances… twilight would be approaching soon. It was this thought that flashed in the lion's mind as he fled from his pursuers, ignoring the profound gnashing of teeth behind him.

Mostly from Sarabi. But other lionesses had appeared on the scene as well—seemingly from nowhere. In particular, Nyota's young form sprinted speedily through the pack, her pale pelt visible in the midst of the darkness as she darted to and fro, trying to catch up to the witty male lion who was fleeing for his life. Sarafina had agreed to look after the cubs at Pride Rock so she could join the chase… which needed all the members that could be spared.

For Scar, though, the chase was neither exciting nor filled with anticipation... rather, it was terrifying and set him in an apprehensive mood. Had he been running full speed, his stamina would have long since given out and he would have succumbed to the lionesses—who, being huntresses, were used to long and tiring chases. Instead, he relied on his knowledge of the Outlands and the vague borders thereabouts, creeping quickly through hidden passages and narrow gaps in between large boulders. The lionesses normally didn't hunt this far out, and were unaware of similar shortcuts. His confusing, indirect path was _just _enough to confuse his pursuers and keep them right on his tail instead of on top of him… But he didn't appear to be getting anywhere ahead. The lionesses were always just around the bend, and they did not seem to be tiring of their little game as a whole. When one lioness dropped back, panting and sweaty, two fresh ones bolted seemingly out of nowhere to take her place. A stalemate. His advantage in knowing the terrain was nothing compared to their collective speed and stamina, or their numbers.

And what was worse was that his energy was running out. His muscles were beginning to tire, and his breathing had long since become rapid and shallow. A horrible pain had started in his side, below his ribcage… and no matter how much he wheezed and gasped, his lungs still felt empty. He couldn't run for much longer… yet every time he slowed even minutely, he could hear the lionesses leap and swipe at him ferociously, and this pushed him forwards again. But soon he wouldn't be able to flee anymore… only the thought of what would happen to him when he exhausted himself kept him going in the first place.

So Scar continued, still trying against the odds to repel the lionesses as he leapt fearlessly through a group of shrubs and onto a steep, rocky hill filled with varying sizes and shapes of scree and gravel…

It was dark. He couldn't see very well. Sarabi and a few of the older, more zealous lionesses stumbled as they ran straight downhill and tried vainly to find purchase on the sloped, unforgiving surface… yet Nyota and the younger huntresses saw through Scar's attempt to dislodge them and quickly bounded across the lateral surface of the terrain, running transverse to the incline and remaining upright and on their feet as they pursued him. Yet, as he zigzagged again, still ahead of Nyota and the others, he was still suddenly knocked off of his feet by something… something soft and furry. And angry.

Usiku had tripped early on, rumbling down the miniature valley with frightening speed as she fell head over heels towards the bottom of the hill. Scar, unfortunately, had accidently moved straight into her path… it was only a matter of time before he made a mistake, and this particular one found him rolling alongside his outraged, bloodlust-filled former pridemate. Not that there was anything either of them could do. Both were focused on not killing themselves on the sharp bed of erosion-cut rocks. Not to mention each individual didn't have a clear view of the other—their vision had been blurred into a spiraling mass of intangible shapes and shades as they continued down the hill, one on top of the other. First Scar was on top, then on bottom, then on top again… it alternated dizzily, and to his dismay it seemed the horrifying descent would never end. And each time he flipped over he smashed into the ground, Usiku's whole weight pressing him into the flesh-piercing tips of the rocks—which seemed to have their own malicious intents about them. Eventually they crashed into the ground, both covered in bumps and bruises, cuts and gashes… and worst of all, Usiku was positioned in a prone position, lying flat out… on top of Scar, who was too weary to move to begin with and was now being pinned to the barren, wispy soil under him.

The chase was over.

He panicked, trying desperately to scratch at the ground with his claws and inch away. The lion's teeth were interlocked into an anxious grimace as he tried to wriggle out from under the lioness' steadfast position. Usiku had already straightened herself into a sitting pose, and was now looking with awe at her catch… it wasn't everyday she caught a _lion_ in a hunt. She chuckled to herself with pride, placing her sharp-clawed paw on the back of his neck and pressing down, down, down… smothering him into the ground. He cringed as the claws broke through his skin, drawing blood… it may have been just a few drops, but it was still unsettling. He knew there would be more—his bumps and bruises only acted as a sort of small premonition in regards to the bloodshed that was sure to come.

His fight was done. He was doomed. Though, really, it must have been set in stone from the moment he set the stampede. Scar had been doomed to fail, and here he was. This is what it cost him. His life. It shouldn't have been a surprise… as murder begets murder, so the death of Simba signified his own death. He was being trampled.

The older lion stopped struggling, but it didn't change anything. It didn't allay the horrible fear that gripped his pounding heart… it didn't warm the ice-cold blood flowing through his veins. He still gasped for breath, exhausted from his run, but there was no point. He didn't have many breaths left, probably, and the horrible inner tension made him feel as though he would explode at any second…

Usiku didn't do anything. She only continued to remain on top of him, her claws pressed into the nape of his neck as her head darted around. It was almost as if she was waiting for something… or someone.

Seconds ticked by.

It was too much. Any longer and he would probably scream with fright. He looked up at his captor, and was grateful for the night… otherwise, she probably would have noted the visible fear in his eyes, the distinct matting of his sweat-caked fur, and the slight shaking of his every limb…

"W-What are you going to do to me?"

His question was simple, yet he dreaded the answer. Usiku's expression was hard to see—she blended into the shadows of her surroundings all too well.

"Nothing… yet. Why don't you ask Sarabi?"

At that moment, a thud was heard, and said lioness clambered to her feet from a spot nearby. She too had fallen and tumbled down the hill, and it was several seconds before she was finally on her feet and possessive of her rage-tainted wits. She smiled quickly towards Usiku, her expression clearly saying her own words despite the silence in the air.

_Well done, Usiku. Another successful hunt._

Usiku beamed—or, rather, did her approximation of an enthused smile—in Sarabi's direction, acting as though the member of her species trapped under her seemingly iron paws was merely a thoughtless gazelle or a zebra. Scar looked at her confusedly… they had all grown up as cubs together—him, Mufasa, Sarafina, and Sarabi—yet he almost didn't recognize the twisted figure of his sister-in-law. Something was horribly, horribly wrong with her…

Nyota finally bounded down the hill, completely concentrated with tackling the slope until she felt the soft feel of the earth beneath her paws, whereupon she slowed her run and approached her comrades. She neared the scene cautiously, unsure of what exactly was happening in front of her.

"Scar—or, should I say, _Taka_…" Sarabi started conversationally, "are you aware of the laws put into place during your father's rule?"

"Y-Yes," he stated simply, vaguely remembering his father's callous and distrustful reign, as well as the multitude of harsh enactments placed within that epoch of fear…

"Do you know what was to be done with… say, _murderers_?" she queried with a merciless grin. Scar could audibly hear the ten sharp claws pop out of their sheaths… a sound that sent a shiver up his spine. He gulped inwardly and he could feel his throat constrict; he was terrified of his bleak future and whatever she had in store for him. Indeed, he was about to answer 'no'—no one had actually been convicted of murder during his father's reign, to his knowledge… but a young voice piped up from behind him, putting an end to the chilling silence and calling the attention of the small group of lionesses which was already gathering around him… some of whom were expectant, and some of whom were confused.

"What?" Nyota spoke up in an uncharacteristically appalled voice, "You can't be serious, Sarabi! That's inhumane!"

"_Shut it, Nyota!" _she growled back, forcing her counterpart into silence. Nyota backed up, having _never _heard Sarabi use such a harsh and demanding tone of voice on anyone, especially not a fellow huntress. But the young lioness still studied the scene warily, now horribly unsettled…

"Roll over," she commanded sharply in Scar's direction, briefly sharpening her claws on a scrap of rubble before nudging him forcefully in the stomach with her elbow. Usiku got up off of her prey and flipped him onto his back before he could resist, seeing where this was going… her eyes narrowed and a vicious grin crept across her face, thirsting for the blood of her friend's enemy to be on her paws. Scar tensed up in fear, only vaguely aware of what was happening. Before he could ask, the same voice came up again.

"Sarabi, stop. Think about this. You aren't doing this for justice… you're doing it because you want to," Nyota again called out, this time with more urgency in her voice. But her pleas fell onto deaf ears. Sarabi only treaded forwards purposefully, now with nothing to separate her from Scar, who was still pinned down by Usiku's paw—which was resting on his throat. He quavered slightly, eyes focused on the ten claws which were rapping the ground and making their not-so-silent way towards him.

"What are you doing?" Nyota practically squealed, her fellow comrades becoming afraid at her unusual resistance to whatever it was Sarabi was about to do. If shy, quiet _Nyota _was this dead set against her actions, perhaps they should be as well…

"I'm ridding the savanna of its most pathetic stain! Now stay quiet before I _make you!_" Sarabi growled in her direction, a threatening expression taking over her countenance. Nyota gasped inwardly, but finally appeared to back down as thoughts flooded through her mind. A murmur of disapproval appeared to reverberate throughout the gathering.

_No… something is wrong… this is not Sarabi… it can't be._

Sarabi turned her attention to Scar for the final time, her expression grave and serious. Speaking to him more than to anyone else, she continued.

"Taka, I know you've always been the squeamish type. I would recommend closing your eyes… unless, of course, you want to see what your innards look like."

Nyota appeared to be anything but mollified at this statement, and this was only backed up by the horrible thrashing and struggling Scar undertook to try and save himself. Of course, his tongue was moving just as quickly as his kicking and clawing limbs.

"P-please, don't do this. It's a misunderstanding! The stampede was an accident. Please. _Please! _I'm _begging _you, Sarabi! I loved Simba. Really. Really, I did. Please, _please _spare me. I'll do _anything_, I swear! We can let this all go. Don't harm me, please. You don't have to do anything this drast—"

Usiku finally took action, pressing her paw down deep into his throat to silence his pitiful pleas. Sarabi stopped and stood with an air of faux-patience, almost appearing benign as she waited for him to stop moving and kicking. The lion choked and gasped for breath, but the lack of oxygen was quickly sapping his remaining strength. After about thirty seconds, he ceased, his eyes barely open and his mind barely conscious of his surroundings.

_He may be a murderer, but… this is wrong._

The pair of lionesses—for, at this point, most of the others were secretly dreading the coming events—finally got tired of waiting. Scar could only watch with drooping eyes as Sarabi brought up one sharp-clawed paw and planted the other firmly on his belly. He shrunk back, and was about to squeeze his eyes shut tight when a pale blur flashed before his eyes.

_Smack!_

He heard the horrible sound of claws tearing through flesh, but there was no pain accompanied with this sound. He turned his head weakly, and quickly found Nyota standing—or, to be more accurate, slumping—by his side. A long, deep gash was running the length of her shoulder. For a brief moment her eyes locked with Scar's, and they were desperately pleading with him. To simply run away and never come back. Oh, how he wanted to… but she quickly looked away, back at Sarabi.

Sarabi lost it momentarily, and that was when the screaming started. And the crying.

"TRAITOR! How could you do this? You don't know what you're doing! How dare you? Leave, Nyota, leave! If Mufasa can't kill this gutless little parasite and avenge our son, it's up to me to pick up the slack! Don't… you… see? I gotta do what he can't do for us and me I have to do it… I… have… to."

The lioness had tried to sound assertive—and, at first, she had—but about halfway through she had been reduced to a weeping, blubbering mass of fur and claws. Seconds passed, and Nyota stood silently, shocked, as she clutched her shoulder protectively. Usiku looked around, confused, as if unsure about what emotions she should be displaying on her face…

"Sarabi," Nyota started, her voice full of pity, "something is wrong… with you… I don't know what to say. I'm speechless."

All this time they had been writing her actions off as grief. As sadness. But now… there was clearly something else. She was _changed_. It wasn't just the stampede. It wasn't just Simba. It was so much more than that. And so it was that the other lionesses—save Usiku, who was still standing on Scar hesitantly—didn't raise a paw to counter this point.

And neither did Sarabi. She stood there for a couple of moments, still sobbing. It took several minutes of expectant waiting—which wore on the nerves of all parties involved—but slowly she calmed. Her rage briefly subsided, and she looked onwards with more lucidity then she had had all day. Glancing at Scar, she appeared appalled… simply because she couldn't believe that she—a normally good-natured lioness, Mufasa's mate, the leader of the huntresses—had nearly eviscerated her brother-in-law. Although his status as brother-in-law might change soon… she was certainly going to have a talk with Mufasa about this. About _all _of this. Sarabi again growled, but this time she turned away, towards Nyota. She still wanted to put the lion to rest, but wasn't sure about how to set about doing it.

"Hey!"

Luckily, she didn't have to think for long. Sarabi looked over her shoulder, quickly and inadvertently adjusting her facial expression to match those of the rest of the lionesses. Angry. For, standing about twenty feet in front of her, a lone hyena was calling out to them.

* * *

><p><em>Hmmm... like I said, this isn't the last thing that happens to Sarabi. And in the meantime, what's going to happen between the lionesses and hyenas? :o <em>

_And I must add... if you're getting tired of reading about Scar (I know I am kind of tired of writing for him right now xD), the next actual chapter is a hyena chapter and a Muffy/Sarabi chapter. :D Kind of felt I had to add that, since the fic is actually supposed to be about Mufasa and Scar and how they interact. xD Heheh..._

_Anyways, put the second R in R&R and review! :D (Unless you haven't read it to begin with, in which case you should before you post anything. xD)_

_-Twin out (;_


	12. 2 Fast 2 Furious

**_A/N:_**

_Hey look-it's Friday the 13th, and that must mean... there's a new Trampled Chapter! Yay! xD *dances around*_

_Sorry, I'm excited. I posted two consecutive chapters in two consecutive days. I almost can't believe it. xD That has to be a first since... I think December, when I started Instigation. O.o (Speaking of which, I have to update my other fics... grr...)_

_Review time (sorry to those of you who haven't had time to review Chapter 11 yet... I'm visiting family and leaving on Sunday... don't know if I'll be able to update for two weeks. Want to post as much as I can before then xD)._

**_mom: _**_Best chapter by far? XD Okay then, thanks. I was kind of worried about how good it would be. :3_

**_kate: _**_Yeah, I updated in record time this time. Might even have another chapter ready for tomorrow... can't believe this. O.o_

**_ArizonaSivy: _**_Yeah, she does act like Zira. But if you think about it, what do Sarabi (in this story) and Zira (in canon) have in common? They both lost someone close to them through murder. Something to think about, no? ;p And I'll be sure to tell Zazu that... I won't say any more. xD_

**_hermonine: _**_Thank you. (: Hope you enjoy the rest!_

**_Reldor: _**_Ahh... xD Speaking of role-play, I need to get back to our TLK forum *slaps self* And I was kind of wondering what you did there... xD You just said "One" and then you stopped. lol :p (It's okay... I've done that too xD)_

**_mimoo01: _**_Thank you. (: Hope you read and enjoy the rest._

**_Ceu Praca_**_, I know you just PMed me saying you would read Chapter 11... xD But you must be a slow reader or something... in which case I apologize if you've just reviewed and I'm skipping you... but there's always next chapter!_

* * *

><p>"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right there, trespasser!" Sarabi called out through the last remnants of hot tears, seemingly forgetting about her repentant nature a few moments before. Oh, how she wanted to rip something apart…<p>

"Because you're—eeeeep!—standing on our land!" came the impetuous reply from the throat of a seemingly young, perhaps adolescent hyena. Sarabi rolled her eyes in irritation.

"Uh, no we aren't!" a voice from within the group of lionesses called out half-heartedly.

"Think again, sweetheart!" Banzai replied assertively, creeping out from his hiding spot behind a boulder. The lionesses cast confused glances at each other and at the land surrounding them. For all they knew, he could be right…

"What do you think you're doing here?" he continued casually.

"Just getting rid of this good-for-nothing lion," Usiku murmured aloud, her voice barely audible to the approaching hyenas. She remained as one of the few present who wasn't completely tired of the situation and was still egging on a bloody conflict. "Unless you want him," she interjected sarcastically and grumbled with an angry flick of her tail.

"Maybe I _do_," he continued with a nonchalant grin, walking towards her slowly. Scar gritted his teeth—the lionesses couldn't know about his associations with the hyenas. Of course, he was unaware that the hyenas were under similar orders to keep their dealings strictly secret for analogous reasons. "Maybe I want something to _eat_," the hyena added quickly to quell any suspicion…

"This is our business," Sarabi snapped, "now leave us be. It's"—she stopped as she quickly tallied up the numbers, minus Scar—"fifteen against two."

"Oooooh, I'm _so _scared, heh," Banzai taunted sarcastically. Usiku and Sarabi were about ready to leap at his unrelenting form, but scarcely a second later the raucous calling of hyena laughter bubbled from… well, everywhere. From behind boulders. From behind shrubs. From behind any hiding places they could find. The lionesses were practically surrounded.

"Try twenty-five hyenas against fifteen lionesses," the masculine voice of a hyena countered bluntly. The lionesses unknowingly turned their heads and attention to Sarabi… their leader.

"Almost a fair fight, then," she replied calmly, trying to mask any fear and emotions from her voice. It was true—most hyenas were horrible fighters. Although they did have a few… assets… here and there.

_Another foe who underestimates me... Well, if they put up a fight they'll see soon enough.._. _when their blood is on my paws._

"Well, my friends, it seems we are at an impasse," Nyota spoke ruefully and diplomatically, facing the hyenas and then Sarabi, who merely appeared flustered. "You can _have _him," she spoke more to Sarabi than to the hyenas, fixing the older lioness with a bold stare, her ears flattened slightly in audaciousness.

"Good to see we agree," Banzai answered for her, again creeping forwards until he was dangerously close to Sarabi's seething form. "Now get off our land."

Sarabi wanted to resist, but she looked around. At the other lionesses who were slowly nodding their heads… up and down… up and down. And, most of all, at Nyota, who had edged in front of her and was looking at her with a desperate stare. The older lioness' gaze was fixed on the bloody slash down Nyota's arm… she supposed she owed this young lioness _something _for accidently mangling her.

"Alright, take him… Come on girls, let's go," came Sarabi's quiet command. The lionesses obeyed, filing out of the Outlands silently and traversing the steep rock pit they had only recently descended. Usiku was the last to obey, as she was still standing stock still on top of Scar, who looked around with visible dread. He was merely being passed from one enemy to another…

Finally the dark lioness released him with an irritated growl. She retreated, her black pelt quickly blending into nothingness as she tried to catch up with Sarabi and the other huntresses. Scar had lived—miraculously, it seemed—though he still had to deal with… them.

_Oh no, not _these _idiots… _

He quickly rolled off of his back and struggled to stand on his shaking limbs. The lion looked around wearily, exhausted… and into the glowing eyes of about twenty hyenas.

"Ah, greetings… I see you've returned," he stammered with an unbearably anxious grin. The hyenas looked painfully nonplussed, their faces coated in malicious frowns…

"I see you've failed to honor our arrangement, _lion_… don't think you're going to get out of this one without seeing _why _the savanna animals fear us hyenas," an older hyena growled from his place behind a rock, pacing forwards slightly and licking his lips forebodingly…

"Yeah, you'll get to see the _other _side of the Circle of Life!" a slightly younger hyena interjected almost gleefully, causing Scar to back up until he was pressed against the gravel hill. He may not have believed in the Circle of Life, but the reference to it was still enough to remind him of his father's wrath…

Finally Banzai himself shuffled up to him slowly, the irises of his eyes glinting like small gemstones in the night.

Scar was desperate. He turned around and studied the rock-coated hill in front of him, being slightly more willing to take his chances in the Pridelands with the lionesses then with the vengeful hyenas standing before him, who had now engaged in an uproar of horrible, spine-chilling laughter.

"I tried! Really, I did. But…" he started to argue, but they were scarcely even paying attention to him anymore. Although, if he remembered correctly, there was a small stub of a tree up above the hill… he sniffed the air quickly, checking to see if the lionesses had gone past it yet. They hadn't. He could still detect their presence… he would need to stall as long as possible so that they didn't find him twice. The previous incident with the tree and his narrow escape made him more than wary.

Banzai quickly dove at him, his jaws snapping mere inches away from his foreleg. It seemed as though stalling was easier said than done… he whirled around and began to climb up the steep, unforgiving grade. Yet going down was much easier than going up… because _at least_ gravity had been on his side before. Now there was little there to aid him as he clawed for any meager footholds he could find. Several hyenas tried to give chase, snapping at his heels, but it didn't turn out very successful for… well, any of them. Not to mention that each time Scar felt like he had a hold of something—perhaps a rock or an edge of a boulder—the object would invariably become dislodged from the hill, or he would lose his grasp on it. And each time this happened, it sent him sliding down, down, down… with only the sharpness of his claws keeping him on the rock face. It was familiar in a strange sort of way… it had happened to someone somewhere else in his memory, though he couldn't quite place the exact incident…

_Mufasa._

Yes, Mufasa had struggled up the walls of the stampede gorge in a similar fashion. And in the end, he had fallen to the ground because of his brother… he hadn't died from his fall; but, then again, he hadn't had any ravenous hyenas trying to climb up after him.

Now he knew what it felt like to be desperately seeking refuge from a _cliff_.

Finally he found what he was looking for—or, at least, the best thing he could possibly hope to find. After a few feet of a near vertical drop, there was a small alcove just big enough for him to stand on. Perhaps the hyenas wouldn't be able to follow him there.

He set out for it, scrabbling up rocks and removing a torrent of pebbles from the face of the cliff. But the straight drop would be the hardest of all. He was just about to reach a paw for it, but then felt something sharp on his hind leg…

_Snap._

Banzai's jaws latched around his lower limb, his sharp teeth sinking in towards the bone… Scar growled loudly and gritted his teeth, bracing himself as well as he could against the stone to prevent himself from slipping down further than he already was… It was even harder than before to stop his inevitable descent, with gravity pulling the weight of two bodies downwards against his claws and the variable surface of the grating gravel. The hyena merely closed his eyes, all of his effort devoted to biting down and holding on. His brows furrowed angrily and he was growling spitefully, enjoying his attempt at bringing his opponent down…

Scar knew he wouldn't be able to climb the sheer rock near his possible sanctuary with the hyena clinging on. And it was only a matter of time before more piled on and dragged him to the ground…

So he fought back, angrily kicking Banzai in the face with his other paw. The hyena whimpered between his interlocked teeth, his face twisting up into a pained expression, but he didn't let go. In fact, his jaws only clutched the lion's leg harder, the hyena's fangs beginning to slice through his warm flesh and into the layers of sinew and lean, tightened muscle…

Scar let loose a vicious, guttural growl from the depths of his throat, and continued to scrap at the loose rock with his free hind leg. The other one he shook desperately, trying to rid it of the unrelenting parasite which was still hanging on with a death grip. His claws still dug into the stone, each band of muscles in his front limbs pulled taut, his teeth gritted together into a purposeful grimace as he struggled to keep his hold on the jagged boulders. Banzai shook back and forth as Scar's leg writhed about in various directions, his weight still pulling him down and causing the two bodies to sway laterally and in unison. Finally the lion sharply and profoundly brought the afflicted leg forwards, causing the blind and unexpected Banzai to crash into the sharp edge of a boulder. The hyena's eyes finally jerked open in shock, his mouth momentarily opening as he let out a surprised yelp, releasing his hold of the lion's leg. Banzai dropped to the ground, tumbling and rolling, as another hyena prepared to take his place. A strong male leapt at him, with the same intent of latching onto his lower extremities and pulling him to the ground. But Scar made use of his three unimpeded limbs well, letting the one with the bite mark dangle uselessly as he finally reached the vertical plane ahead.

His claws were still sharp—rather, they were always sharp—and this alone was what allowed him to climb the unyielding surfaces of rock. He carved out many long gashes in his attempts to ascend the grade, and after much careful footwork, he finally found himself on the ledge. His front paws found ground on top of it, and he pulled himself upwards and safely onto the edge of the measly platform. He walked a mere step towards the back and collapsed, exhausted. The hyenas, as predicted, could not reach him—that much he could tell already. As to how he would get down, well… he had no idea. But he didn't worry, and instead allowed himself a few precious moments of rest, not even bothering to curl up and sleep like he usually did. He merely stayed where he was, lying on his belly in a prone position, with his limbs outstretched lazily. The hyenas would probably wait him out, and would no doubt get to him sooner or later, but at least he had bought himself some time, however small and insignificant it might have been.

After a few moments, he heard the lone call of a male hyena, who was addressing him in an angry, raised shout.

"We'll get our pound of flesh one way or the other!" it yelled dogmatically, "whether you give it to us or whether we have to rip it off your body! That's what we're _good _at!"

Scar shuddered inwardly, regretting his dealings with them a million times over. Yet somehow, he was still alive, despite the odds… it must have been for a reason. There must have been a purpose for him…

No, that was nonsense. Why, he was the smartest lion out there—it was no surprise that his foes had fallen at his feet! The lion settled his head gently on his forepaws, somewhat satisfied despite his prolonged state of endangerment.

But even as he drifted off into the tendrils of a light, dreamless sleep, he still could not shake the strange feeling that he was alive and breathing for a reason…

* * *

><p><em>Hmmm, so now what? Scar does seem to be the lucky type... Is there a reason for this? And he did escape the hyenas-true... but how's he gonna get down? ;o Anyone want to speculate on what's going to happen?<em>

_And also, like I said, this is the last Scar chapter for now. Next chapter has Nyota, Rafiki, Zazu, Sarabi, Mufasa, Banzai, Asokai, Shenzi, Zamani, Ed, and Scar (briefly)._

_So you've read the story... now review! :D Thanks._

_T-win out (;_


	13. Call the Doctor!

_**A/N: **_

_Alright, alright... I know this is my third chapter in an expanse of three days, and you've barely had any time to review. Sorry about that-but I want this to stay on the front page as long as possible so more people see it... :p I'll be gone for a while, as I said, and don't think I'll be able to update. So this is the last one for a while. I apologize to the 33 people alerting this if I have been flooding your inbox with update emails. x)_

_Also, I realize that the last... *thinks* three chapters have been nonstop action. So I'll give you guys a break. For now. lol But there will be more conflict as the story goes on, so don't worry. Just a little necessary exposition here... Review time. :p (Not many this chapter, since I just posted yesterday and some reviewers haven't read yet... Also, I would like to ask **Snappy**__ to bring me back a Belgian waffle from Belgium. Thanks. ;o)_

**_kate: _**_First to review again... xD *waves* Here it is._

**_mom: _**_You'll find out next chapter... xD Scar's plotline is getting a break._

**_ArizonaSivy: _**_Have a good "hospital visit"! xD lol And yeah, maybe there is... just something to think about. If you want to take any stabs at what you think will happen, feel free. :p_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Key word is "for now". x) Thank you for the compliment... and you'll find out this chapter. (: Hope you keep reading, and thanks for the review._

* * *

><p>"What do you think you're doing?"<p>

Mufasa lay in the cave, sound asleep… Or, at least, he _was _sound asleep, though he was quickly awoken by the tapping of a thick, pale paw on his shoulder. The lion king rolled over, spreading his jaws and emitting a leonine yawn. He blinked his large, brown eyes wearily, and looked upwards to see who was bothering him.

Sarabi was standing angrily in front of him, tapping her foot as though she wanted an explanation for something. The sun had begun to rise behind her—Mufasa could see the magnificent hues of dawn plastered against the sky outside the cave entrance—and the sunlight had hit her back, casting her face and chest in a myriad of deep, dark shadows and giving her the appearance of a silhouette standing before him.

"I'm sleeping," he answered with a grumble, still somewhat tired and emotionally stressed from his chase with Scar, which had taken place merely twelve hours before.

"Oh yes, sleeping. Wonderful. Because you _really_ need your sleep, Mufasa dear… especially since you _let Scar go __**again**__!"_ she approached him with a raised, angry voice, causing Mufasa to tilt his head at her in pure confusion. Just ten seconds before he was dreaming about running through fields of wildflowers with Simba, and now he was being yelled at by this lioness… his mate.

"Do you have any idea where I've been for the last six hours? Do you even care?"

Mufasa glanced at her groggily, his brows furrowed and his expression clearly nonplussed. After several seconds of probing his mind, he couldn't quite think of a logical answer.

"No, Sarabi. For one thing, it is not for you to question the motives of your king—what I do or do not do to my brother is none of your concern. But tell me… where have you been?"

He asked compliantly, resting his head on his paws lazily. The lion half wished that she would leave him alone and go somewhere else, at least until he was fully awake and aware of his surroundings. But his comment, if anything, only inflamed the lioness standing before him more.

"So, I can't question you, hmmm? Of course! No one _dares _question the brave and mighty Mufasa—even his queen can't get a word in edgewise. It's _none _of her business whether or not her son's murderer lives or dies, is it?"

"Enough, Sarabi," he growled irritably, feeling strange that he was sticking up for his brother in the midst of Sarabi's passionate locutions. Sarabi's face instantly quieted, strangely enough, and she quickly smirked before answering his question.

"Well, first I had to look for Nala, who was _attacked _yesterday in the pantry by… oh, guess who? _Your brother. _After finding her, _I _had to take the lead and finish what you started but never finished, which involved about an hour of searching for… oh, guess who? Your brother _again_."

Mufasa glared at her quietly, unsure about what he should say or do about the situation. For one thing, he noticed that he was strangely concerned… and so he asked the first question that came to his mind.

"Did you… do it?"

Sarabi scoffed.

"Puh. No. And you can thank _Nyota _for that… we chased him all the way to the Outlands, and some pathetic hyenas came and surrounded us. We had to bail out, I'm afraid," she mumbled with visible disappointment in her voice, studying her claws disinterestedly.

Her mate studied her silently, almost unbelieving. Where was the Sarabi who was always there by his side in his youth? The beautiful lioness he had pursued upon grassy knolls filled with sunshine? Where was his one true love, his queen, who had promised to be loyal throughout all of her days? Where was the kind, gentle lioness who spread love to all she touched?

She was gone. And this lioness had taken her place. The one who wanted to murder his brother. The one who felt she had to avenge their son—at the expense of another family member…

Nonetheless, he was secretly relieved at the news that his brother wasn't killed by Sarabi… although the news of hyenas wasn't very comforting, either.

"Where is Nyota, anyways?"

Mufasa quickly tallied up the lionesses who had been resting around the sleeping cave, and was surprised to find that he didn't see the young, distinguishable lioness around anywhere.

"I don't know," Sarabi responded, not even bothering to look around. "She was there on the hunt," she finished blandly, clearly disappointed about the turn of events Nyota had invariably caused.

The lioness turned around and began to leave the cave, her small form heading into and eventually being enveloped by the ring of light visible at the entrance of the cave. She padded out slowly, her strong, muscled body beginning to disappear amidst the wide world outside…

"Wait, Sarabi. Don't leave."

The individual by that name stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Why? What more is there to say?" she replied pessimistically, her head still focused in front of her, away from Mufasa…

"Well, I think that we should talk… about…" he trailed off, not quite sure where he was going with his sentence…

"You know what, you're right," she finally turned around, as if interpreting his incomplete thought and his intentions clearly. Sarabi had had enough. She fixed him with her beady-eyed stare, her fangs showing slightly through her lips…

"There is more to say. Because you can do whatever you want, Mufasa… you'll just have to do it without me."

* * *

><p>It was dawn. And that meant that most of the savanna animals were rising, ready to begin a new day. Giraffes paced about the acacias, antelope leapt through the golden hills, songbirds and butterflies flitted quietly through the shrubs and trees… Everything was active, and everything was peaceful.<p>

Except amongst the hyenas.

The pack was still gathered at the bottom of the gravel hill, most of them asleep or nearly so as they waited for something—_anything _—to happen. Even as the bright rays of sunlight poured down upon their heads, bathing them with heat and light, most of them didn't bother to stir. They only continued to rest and dream, their heads lazily lying on their forepaws as they curled up near one another, waiting around and testing their patience. And, of course, testing Scar's patience. The lion they were after was also asleep, though he woke up occasionally to check and see whether or not they had gone. But they never left. And so he would turn his head back and sit down, bored and waiting for something to do other than lay around and wait for an event to unfold.

Banzai sat back on the ground, his eyes nearly closed and a noticeable bump over his eye where he had smacked into the boulder. His patience was wearing thin as well…

Finally, he realized he had to do something. This was getting ridiculous. They were wasting time. The middle-aged male raised his voice, calling out to one other hyena in particular, who was splayed out over a rock and trying to get in his forty winks.

"Asokai!"

The young hyena by that name raised his head quietly, as if dizzy. He looked around confusedly, trying to find whoever it was that had called him. Banzai rolled his eyes irritably.

"_Asokai!_"

Asokai's head finally turned and he locked eyes with Banzai, who was staring at him impatiently. The hyena stretched and yawned complacently, before padding silently and respectfully over to the pack's second-in-command.

"Y-yes?"

Banzai scoffed, glaring with frustration at the ledge his foe was seeking refuge on, before turning his attention back to his hyena packmate.

"Go back to Shenzi," he started with a growl, "and tell her that _kitty _here won't come down."

"Alright, as you wish," Asokai lowered his head solemnly towards Banzai before turning off and running to the north, farther into the Outlands…

Asokai was quick, and Banzai knew that—hence why he had chosen him. It would only be a matter of time before Shenzi got the news… and she probably wouldn't be happy about it.

"Oh well," he muttered to himself, taking care not to accidently rouse the sleeping hyenas all around him, "we tried our best…"

He slumped back down on the ground, curling up and switching his tail around slightly to keep away the flies. Finally he closed his eyes… prepared to wait for another several hours. He had to be loyal to Shenzi and her will, even if that meant waiting all day in the hot desert sun…

* * *

><p>The baobab tree stood in the savanna.<p>

And really, that's all it ever did. It sat there—unmoving, unchanging, unrelenting—and soaked up the occasional drops of rain that were sprinkled down from the sky and absorbed into the soft, rich earth. The wind rustled through the leaves and ruffled the very tips of the old, knotted branches. In reality, the baobab was like the dinosaur of the savanna trees; it was unbearably primitive, prehistoric, ancient… it was thick and slow and lumbered about, hardly growing at all through the length of its unimaginable lifespan. Most trees were home, at one point or another, to countless species of songbirds, ants, various insects, raptors, buzzards, monkeys, and even the rare resting leopard…

But this tree had only one inhabitant. An inhabitant who remained there, season after season and year after year. He too was like a dinosaur—aged, unmoving, unchanging—and it was this feature in particular that matched him to his home.

A baboon he was—no, a mandrill, to be precise. Wizened and wise, with grey tufts of hair sprouting out from his head in all directions. He climbed the thick branches of the understory with his dexterous limbs, and by this time was able to move about the knotted, rough surface with astonishing speed. He knew the tree like the back of his wrinkled, calloused hand. The hand that was so wrinkled and calloused because of countless nights spent painting, mixing and stirring various medicines, and picking ripe jungle herbs for his concoctions. His real name was unknown, as well as his origins, though he was known by the locals as 'Rafiki'—or 'friend'.

He was the go-to. The one the animals sought when anything was off. Whether it was sickness and injury or just plain old good advice, he was the one who was always there. Dependable, unchanging, loyal… a friend.

And so it was no surprise that another, more concerned friend was searching for him on this particular morning. Tired and battered, Nyota approached the baobab, her limbs sore and her muscles tight from all the running and hiking she had done since the night before. She yawned quietly, relieved to be in sight of the primate shaman: the only one she felt she could turn to for her particular predicament. He alone had both the experience and the wisdom. Though she often turned to Mufasa for smaller matters—it was a much shorter hike that way—she knew she couldn't quite turn to him this time. It was too personal.

"Rafiki!"

There was silence. She picked up her paw, prepared to go forward, but decided against it. It was still early morning… he might be asleep. Instead she waited a few moments before trying again.

"Rafiki!"

She thought she heard a rustle, though it was so quiet that even her finely-tuned senses weren't sure whether it was from the wind or from movement. The young lioness paced about back and forth, trying to pass the time as she waited for the mandrill to come out of his tree. Seconds passed.

Finally it was too much. She needed to speak with him desperately, so she took the initiative to find him amongst the branches herself. She put one clawed paw on the bark, and was about to climb up when a blur—which had been sitting, unnoticed by her, in the branch above the entrance—swung off the bough and hung right in front of her. She jumped back, startled, and landed on her back in the dusty, muddy grass…

"Ahahahahaha!" Rafiki lightheartedly chuckled in his mandrill way before offering his hand for her to get up. She waited a moment before taking it, looking at him skeptically.

"You scared me!" she responded breathlessly, still lying on the floor of the savanna.

"Ah, seek and you shall find! Is dat not right? Were you not looking for me?"

"Y-yes, I was," she responded quietly, finally grabbing his hand with her paw and rolling onto her feet. The mandrill motioned for her to follow him, and quickly took off through the branches, rising into the canopy with the sort of lightning speed that only a primate could muster. She hesitated, and then followed to the best of her ability. Luckily, she was good at climbing trees…

"Ha! You're a good climber for a lion! So, what is it dat troubles you? Is it dat claw mark on your shoulder, perhaps? And might I add, there's a certain… eh, bug… going around with de giraffes. Don't think it's… communicable… with de lions, but if you start getting any nosebleeds, come to me immediately, is dat clear?"

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind," she responded politely, suddenly remembering her shoulder wound and the dull, throbbing pain associated with the injury. The young lioness clutched it protectively, and—without being asked—Rafiki left to search for the appropriate medicine…

She waited for a few moments, scanning the branches of the tree—most of which were covered in artwork. Each depicted an important part of the Pridelands' history. In particular, one scene with two young lions and a panther stuck out in her mind…

"Looking at de art, I see? Heheh, you seem like de observant type!"

Nyota jumped slightly, startled for the second time and surprised with how quickly he had returned. She nodded, too shaken to really say anything.

"I-Is that…?" she queried, motioning with her head towards the painting, her paw still clutching her afflicted shoulder.

"Yes, eet is. No one really likes to talk about dat day. Now hold still. I got someting for dat shoulder of yours," the mandrill held up a split coconut shell, which was filled with an oily yet aromatic plant mash, and he motioned for her to sit down.

"This might sting a beet," he admonished her lightly, "but you can tell me what ees wrong while I fix up dis wound of yours."

"Alright," Nyota agreed quietly, sitting down and allowing him to slather the cream over her sore, aching injury. There was a momentary pause as the mandrill started, looking totally focused in his work.

"It's about Sarabi. I'm worried," she stated simply. "She's not sick per se, but… she's different somehow."

"Ah, trying to keel her broder-in-law, I see? Is tat what worries you?" he pondered to himself, shaking his head in slight disapproval, not exactly supporting Sarabi's radical measures.

Nyota snapped her head around to look at the shaman. "How do you know about that?" she asked confusedly. It had happened only a few hours ago…

"Ha, you tink dat Mufasa's de only one with eyes in de sky? I tink not!"

Nyota studied him for a moment, but shook it off. Until, at that moment, a small purple bird came rushing through the branches and into the small expanse near the middle of the tree, where the pair had been sitting.

"Ah, Msaada," he greeted, "we were just talking about you! Come een, and sit down!"

The bird plumped himself down in the middle of the space, shuffling his wingtips together as he walked towards him. Indeed, he reminded Nyota very much of Zazu…

"Wise shaman, I was just inspecting your medicine stash, and it seems as though you are running a little low on barb-leaf plant for your anti-inflammatory ointment," he reported seriously.

"Ah, _Lupus sylvestrus_, very good."

"A small grove appears to exist in the southwestern jungle. However, it is recommended that you proceed with caution. That particular area is known for its many leopards," Msaada finished his speech, his air and way of speaking reflecting silent, courteous pragmatism.

"Yes, yes, very good, Msaada," he responded encouragingly as he continued to rub Nyota's shoulder with the soothing ointment, not actually turning to face the small avian in front of him.

"That is all, wise shaman."

Rafiki huffed. "How many times must I tell you—call me Rafiki. Nothing more, nothing less," he chastised lightly, momentarily stopping his massaging hands to look sternly at the bird, who merely nodded and flew away.

"He told me what happened last night," Rafiki explained to Nyota, who had already pieced that together. He sighed with a slight hint of desperation.

"Mmmm…" Nyota responded vaguely, more concerned about the turn of events with Sarabi. "It's almost like… her mind is sick…" she paused for a moment, allowing the quieting effect of the cream massage to sink in, before realizing that that sounded completely ridiculous. "No, that doesn't seem right... Sorry, that made more sense in my head than it just did," she finished, gnawing slightly on one of her digits as she pondered how best to explain it.

"It makes more sense dan you tink," Rafiki replied gravely, briefly pausing in his work to look at her solemnly. "Allow me to relate to you a story while I finish patching this up," he continued, going back to the task at hand and reaching for some long, thick leaves that he had formed into a pile in the midst of the floor. Bandages.

Nyota agreed, understanding that any anecdote from Rafiki was probably relevant to her situation and would prove helpful. Besides, it wasn't like she had anything else to do while he was dressing her shoulder delicately…

_I might be here a while…_

Clearing his throat slowly, Rafiki began:

"A very long time ago—before you or your mother were even born—I didn't live in de Pridelands. I was a part of a troop to de east, the Nyani Miti. Hundreds of monkeys and baboons and primates all lived dere. It was like paradise for de primates. Plenty of food, plenty of water… all of dat. I was a young mandrill at de time, going through training to become a healer, and I was nearly finished wit dat. I was ready to live on my own. Of course, I had no idea where I would go—it wasn't until years later dat I found the Pridelands and Mufasa's grandfather, Mohatu. Now, you must understand dat medicine is a difficult art to master. It took me many years of apprenticeship: gathering plants, mixing compounds, and de like. Me and a few other young primates were chosen for de apprenticeship. Our teacher was a female baboon, about de age I am now, and she was one of de kindest individuals I ever met—rather like Sarabi, who I have been friends with for a long time now. Everyone in de troop respected her, including me… she was one of my biggest role models. Still is. Even now, I still try to be like that old baboon.

"She, of course, had a mate and two young ones. Her children I knew well—we played together by de water on many occasions, doing de things dat youth do. Of course, I knew others then, but I still remember dem after all dese years…

"Anyways, her mate was a much younger specimen, I might add. I never knew heem well—he tended not to disturb his mate while she was teaching us. But I know dat she loved him very dearly, and she talked about heem often while we were picking wild herbs. I still do not know why he did what he did; perhaps he felt dat she was too old for him, or maybe there was another reason dat I do not know about. But one day she found out dat he had been cheating on her with a much younger baboon. According to de primate law, when such a ting happens de couple must divorce. The father ended up with his two young, and I rarely saw dem after dat day.

"She was never de same. Often times she would trail off when she talked to us, or would snap at us when we did tings wrong. Sometimes we caught her talking to herself, or she would simply stare off into space. She did tings we never thought we would see her do. She wasn't herself. After my apprenticeship was finished, I didn't see her ever again.

"Shortly afterwards it was said dat she drowned her two children in the river, and den took her own life. I could not believe it. She was de kindest baboon I ever knew, yet she had ended doing something horrible like dat. So, you see, I know what you mean by a sickness of de mind… Perhaps more dan most, I am sad to say."

Nyota looked up, appalled, as he finished wrapping the last of the bandages around her arm. It was scary to think about, but some of the symptoms described by Rafiki sounded like Sarabi's current predicament.

"You mean Sarabi could do something like that?"

"I don't know," the baboon answered ruefully. "Her case might be different, or not as severe. She might recover completely—I don't know. It's very hard with dese tings. But dere is hope. After de incident, I was determined to find someone who could teach me about dese so-called 'ailments of de mind'—in my apprenticeship, we were never taught about such tings, but after what happened to her… I knew dat dey existed. After weeks of searching, I finally found another shaman who knew about dem, and learned as much as I could about treating de diseases. I may be able to reach a diagnosis—if she lets me talk to her."

Nyota exhaled loudly, stressed… This was so much worse than she thought. But Sarabi clearly wasn't recovering from her grief… there wasn't much of an option.

"Dere," he interjected with an air of finality, butting into Nyota's thoughts as he stood back and began studying his handiwork. The lioness looked down, and was pleased with what she saw. She moved her limb about, testing it… comfortable, yet effective. Not to mention her shoulder served as an effective alibi for her absence—she didn't want to Sarabi to know about this talk…

"Heheh… I suppose you should be on your way, my friend. I will be sure to talk to Sarabi, and let you know what I find via bird. Make sure dat you don't tell her about any of dis—that will make it harder for me to try and fix dees problem."

"Wasn't planning on it," Nyota retorted austerely.

"Good…" he trailed off, beginning to look into the horizon. Nyota followed his gaze briefly, but didn't see anything.

"Ah, look, eet's Mufasa's bird, Zazu."

"How can you tell?" she asked, still not seeing anything.

"Smells like heem," he responded simply, sniffing the air slightly and climbing down the branches in front of him. Surely enough, Nyota could _just _see a speck of bright azure creeping across the air faraway.

But Zazu was a fast flier. It only took a few seconds for him to approach the baobab, whereupon he turned sharply upwards and landed gracefully on the branch with a pompous ruffle of his plumage.

"Ah, hello, Miss Nyota. Mufasa has been worried over your absence," he greeted with a slight air of surprise. Nyota looked at him quietly for a moment, confused, before gathering her wits and motioning to her shoulder.

"I was getting this fixed," she drawled simply, gazing at the bird disinterestedly. Zazu cocked an eyebrow, not knowing about her shoulder wound, but he shrugged it off.

"Anyways, Rafiki… Mufasa and Sarabi need to see you. Immediately," he finished, casting another suspicious glance in Nyota's direction, as if unsure whether or not he should say anything in her presence.

"Any idea what dees is about, my little friend?"

Zazu shook his head sadly, but answered in the affirmative. "Yes, but… it's not good, wise shaman. You should come and see for yourself."

Rafiki glanced at Nyota with an esoteric air, knowing that he would soon have his chance to talk to Sarabi. This would work out to their advantage.

"Good. We were just talking about… important matters that should be resolved."

Zazu didn't understand the reference, of course, and nodded briefly—his signal for the shaman to follow him. Grabbing his staff, he allowed Nyota to descend the tree relatively clumsily before sliding down the limbs with ease, following the bird as he flew through the savanna air. Nyota stood there for a moment, and then called out to Rafiki, who was rapidly disappearing into the horizon.

"Good luck!"

* * *

><p><em>"Ailments of the mind", as you've (presumably) figured out, refers to mental illness. Grief does things to people... ;o<em>

_Some of this exposition might have seemed unneeded... perhaps one particular part about a panther painting... ;) but that was purposeful. Any of you want to take a guess at what it means? ;p If you do, or you want to say anything else, leave a review! Chances are I won't be back for a while (except a one-hour one-shot tomorrow... maybe), so now is your golden opportunity to tell me your feelings. :)_

_Review! Subscribe! Favorite! Whatever you want! :D Peace be with you~_

_-Twin out (;_


	14. Sharpest Knife in the Drawer

_**A/N: **_

_H__mmm, it's been nine days since my last update... again. I think nine must be my lucky number or something. x) This chapter is only about Shenzi, Zamani, Asokai, and Ed. It was going to have more, but these chapters keep getting longer and longer... even though it's just some exposition on Shenzi's plan/motivation. Not too much, and no flashbacks... those are for later. :p Plus a ¡SURPRISE! at the end. xD Ahem... And one last thing for me to say-being the indecisive person I am, I went ahead and made aforementioned decision for all of you. Trampled will have a sequel, and it's going to be called "Subterfuge". I don't know much else at this point though. Don't get too excited. :p Review time._

**_kate: _**_Wasn't a super quick update like last time (or the time before...), but it was still comparatively not-slow, so... yeah. xD Enjoy._

**_mom: _**_Thanks... that part was fun. x) lol_

**_NiñaRoja: _**_Love to hear your enthusiasm! :D Hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters. :p And there's a first for everything, I suppose. lol But still, I'm very honored. XD *takes a bow*_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Thanks. :) And we can hope... but sometimes tragedies are hard to avoid and cope with. :/ Actually, that's good to hear... I was pondering how best to tackle his accent. x)_

**_Reldor: _**_*tries to think of a Reldorian witty comment* Yep, if her mind was a swimming pool, she'd be going off the deep end! xD *totally just failed there* That was my best comeback... o.- And Sarabi doesn't play a huge part in the movie other than being Simba's mom, so I understand why you'd feel that way, lol. xD_

**_titan616: _**_Yeah, I agree about the prison thing. :/ But I wanted to add her predicament into the plot. Plus, Scar is technically related to her via marriage. x) (Although that might change, from the looks of things). Mufasa's at something of an impasse here-with a dead son, an exiled brother, and a mate who wants to kill said brother. What bad luck! D:_

**_IronicSnap: _**_*holds up faux champagne* Yep, to another 100 reviews! :D And I'm glad to hear you liked it... personally, I was fearing that the last few chapters were becoming redundant. DX And more Stephen Fry, hmm? :p I'll have to look up that video again... I remember it was hilarious. lol_

**_Shadow914: _**_Glad to hear you like it, and I hope you keep reading. (: Here is Chapter 14._

**_Sunkissed Fairy: _**_Oh, hello... I remember you. :D I'm really happy to hear you're still reading. Really. (: Nice to hear you love it. _

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Hey, TTJ! :D I haven't heard from you in a while, either in PMs or reviews. I assumed you were busy with work, but if you aren't, feel free to chat anytime. :) I'm very happy that this story has "enthralled" you. :p That's part of my goal. xD Yep, I love epic music, so I'll check it out. :D And don't worry, Zira makes an appearance soon... x)_

_And last but not least, I would like to say that I have not heard from **Ceu Praca** lately, even though they PMed me saying they were reading Chapter 10 about 10 days ago... so, if any of you are holding them hostage, then please release them immediately. I don't have enough for a ransom. Thanks. xD_

_Now on with the story. (:_

* * *

><p>The hyena cave was an interesting place—silent during the day, but active and bustling at night. And that's how Shenzi always knew it. Growing up here, adjusting to the regular traffic and hectic schedule of the hours. Of course, being matriarch, she also had to learn to control it… but the place had a sort of rhythm, a delicate tempo of life that faded and receded like the tides of the ocean. And while Shenzi did appreciate being alone with her thoughts from time to time, sometimes the points of solitude were too much for her to bear.<p>

The hunt was out. Silence ensued.

Banzai and his party were gone. More silence ensued.

She bided her time as well as she could, attempting to keep boredom at bay by fiddling with a scrap of bone she had found propped up carelessly against one of the boulders…

And that was another thing that infuriated her. Whenever she tried to keep the place clean, she always failed utterly. Always. It was an impossible endeavor, and one she had long since given up on. For each piece of trash she picked up, about six more came—seemingly from nowhere—and littered the floor nearby. Living with so many male hyenas was such a distraction…

But luckily she wasn't the only female around… what a relief… at that moment Zamani came shuffling up, her posture somewhat slouched as she limped about on three legs. The old hyena approached Shenzi cheerfully enough before sitting down, a small grin on her face.

"Heya niecey… how ya doin'?"

"Good enough, I s'pose. Leg still hurting ya?" Shenzi replied good-naturedly, happy to have some company for a few moments. Zamani rolled her eyes in mock irritation.

"_Yeah! _Can't believe I 'llowed that danged gazelle ta kick me! Now I gotta stay here… I should be on ta hunt!" she stomped one of her good paws on the ground, clearly itching to go despite her older age and delicate state. Though she may not have had much physical strength—anymore, at least—her boundless enthusiasm was astonishing.

"Well, s'alright. At least it means we get ta talk to each other…" she trailed off absently, the older hyena leaning conversationally over the boulder as Shenzi glanced around dubiously.

"Don'tcha worry, Shenzi Marie… you're doin' wonderful. I always knew ya'd be the best ta pass my torch to… even though your mother died before she could teach'a ta ropes," she responded warmly, obviously picking up on her hesitation. "Now…" she continued, "doesn't mean I 'gree with all ya choices… but I'm here for ya."

Shenzi smirked, obviously knowing what she was referring to. She herself was somewhat unsure of how to proceed in the midst of the whole situation…

"What _should_ a'do, auntie?"

"Ya gotta be bold, Shenz'!" she answered dogmatically, a certain enthusiastic glint in her eyes as she drew closer to her niece. "Blackmail works sometimes now, but this… you hafta get rida 'im. Ya've told me 'bout that lion, and I don't think he's gonna listen. Not ta mention his chances of killing ta king are slim ta nothin'."

"Well, we'll see what Banz' says. I know it could be dangerous, 'specially if Mufasa finds out about our dealings, but… I think Scar's our only chance back ta the Pridelands. I don't want to kill 'im yet," she reflected sadly, not quite liking the idea of keeping him alive any longer either. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice…

"Hmmm… well, if ya think that's best… you are ta leader of this pack. I'll give ya advice, but whether or not ya take it is only up ta _you_," she smiled ruefully, clearly wishing that she would listen. "Just remember… _bold_, Shenzi… _bold_. We could take ta kingdom for ourselves from ta lions if we wished…"

"Yeah, but that'd cause a war, and our numbers are too weak an' small for such a battle. We're barely scraping togetha' enough food ta keep us alive... which is why I'm willing to get us something ta eat, no matter ta co—."

"_Never _underestimate ta spirit of ta hyenas!" her expression quickly changed into one of deadly seriousness. "Be proud of who ya are! Be proud of ya species!" Shenzi frowned at her aunt's sudden change in mood, somewhat ashamed. She felt like a young pup, being scolded for doing something wrong. The matriarch buried her face under one of her paws and looked at her aunt regretfully, a little saddened. Yes, the hyenas had _spirit_… but that was about it.

"Look, I'm sorry, auntie… but I don't think I could rule ta Pridelands. I'd be happy just livin' there. You can say I have no ambition, but… leadin's harder than I thought. I just want ta see my people though this rough time. Not ta mention… Banz' and ta others underestimate Scar. They ain't 'fraid of him like I am… they don't know him like a'do. They don't understand just how smart he is. Which could work either for us… or against us."

Zamani pressed her lips together sadly, which brought another pang of guilt to her niece. "Alright, s'ya decision, niecey. But just tell me one thing… this isn't 'cause ya knew him as a pup, is it? I'd hate ta think ya'd gone soft on us…"

"NO!" Shenzi blurted out a bit too quickly. "Of course not! That was in ta past, Zamani… and trust me, his brother will pay for keepin' us in exile all this time."

Zamani nodded in approval, and was about to open her mouth to say something… before rapid footsteps were heard outside the cavern. Shenzi turned her head in surprise, only to find a young hyena running full speed up to her.

"Asokai? Something wrong?"

He bolted to the back of the cavern, his paws skidding and sliding against the rock as he struggled to slow to a stop. The young hyena panted for breath, clearly tired, and his limbs shook as torrents of sweat poured off his heaving sides.

"Message for you."

Shenzi cast a dubious glance at Zamani, who only gazed at her solemnly. Nervous, the matriarch gritted her teeth and frowned edgily, before motioning for Asokai to continue.

"Scar's stuck up on the—eeep—edge of a cliff. Banzai and the others can't reach him."

The female hyena narrowed her eyes, silently cursing her second-in-command's blatant incompetence.

"Alright, what happened? What's Banzai tryin' ta do? Why's 'e stuck under a cliff?"

"Some lionesses were there a—eeek—nd they were chasing Scar or something. Banzai told us to hide in the shadows and attack him if he got close."

"What? No!" Shenzi looked deeply irritated. She'd though she'd made herself clear… "So he just attacked 'im? No warnings or nothin'? Did he pay ta ransom?"

"Well," Asokai started, confused. He titled his head questioningly, even as he continued, "Banzai told him we'd kill him if he didn't pay it… which he didn't."

Shenzi growled in frustration, rubbing the side of her head with her paw as she tried to calm down. Finally she glanced at Asokai, who appeared to be cowering slightly from her wrath. She shouldn't blame the messenger, so to speak…

"Thanks, Asokai. You can go get somethin' ta drink. You don't hafta go back there if ya don't wanna," she muttered half-heartedly, still nonplussed over the whole incident. Why didn't he have patience? Prudence? Foresight? Why was he so… clueless? Asokai only stood there, silent, for several moments… before shrugging meekly and pattering away.

"Maybe this was supposed ta happen, Shenz'," Zamani stated reassuringly, "…we can finish up ta whole thing in one fell swoop. Ya just gotta wait for him ta come down. Shouldn't be too hard, ya know…"

The matriarch sighed. She didn't exactly want this to happen. It wasn't the turn of events she had planned… but, then again, not all things go according to plan…

"Wait, so if he's in the tree… I've got time ta make a decision, right?"

Zamani nodded quietly. "It's ultimately up ta you, as I said… But ya hafta be quick about it. Banzai and the others are dependin' on your leadership. Don't keep 'em waitin'.

Shenzi shuffled from foot to foot impatiently, eager to get away from the area and evaluate her options. Of course, the matriarch was never without some sort of inkling—a vague idea of her next, immediate course of action. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she addressed the old matriarch again.

"Alright… I'm gonna go get a drink or somethin'," she lied subtly, turning away from her aunt and looking sadly over her shoulder as she exited the cave. Finally she focused on the terrain ahead of her, and was delighted as her paws met the wispy, sun-warmed soil. The azure sky of the increasingly barren desert stretched out in every direction she could see… and in the midst of the encompassing blue, a bright sun sent its beams out in a warm, magnificent embrace. She sniffed the pleasant air lazily, and had there been any grass, there would have certainly been the cool feel of dew under her feet as well.

She jogged with increasing placidity across her dusty home, and was surprised when she quickly encountered—and nearly tripped over—a hyena pup, which was enjoying the sunrise and was clearly oblivious to its surroundings.

"Ooof… sorry there!"

The hyena pup appeared alarmed and somewhat shaken, but didn't run away. She—for it was a female—only whimpered a little and looked up at Shenzi with pleading, questioning eyes. Instantly feeling somewhat guilty, Shenzi tried to reassure the young hyena.

"Now, now… s'okay, sweetie. I'm not gonna hurt ya. We're friends," she placed her paw gently on the other hyena's shoulder, which merited a smile on the part of the younger pack member.

"Mmm-mm… really?" the small female craned her neck around to look at Shenzi with large, brown eyes.

"Of course!" she returned her smile with an affectionate grin, before realizing what she was out here for in the first place… suddenly her face changed into something vaguely aloof, revealing her distant stress. "Have ya seen Ed 'round anywhere, maybe? I'm lookin' for him."

"You mean the stupid one?" the younger hyena questioned lightly with a helpful tone in her voice. Of course, she was unknowing of just how strange those words sounded to Shenzi's ears. The matriarch nodded blankly. "Mmm… I saw him a few minutes ago. He was over by the tree… that way," she motioned to the right with her paw. "Why?" she queried, cocking her eyebrow curiously.

"Oh, nothin', dear. Just want ta see him. Part of my job is makin' sure everyone's doin' good," she cracked another friendly smile towards the little pup, who was still lying quietly in the dirt with her eyes now fixed on the horizon. Her attention was already diverted elsewhere, and her only reply was a terse nod. Deciding to leave her alone, Shenzi turned around as quietly as she could and padded away towards the direction the other hyena had pointed in.

She was right. Shenzi beamed as she traversed over the vista of a hill and caught sight of a lone figure leaning against the small, twisted form of one the rare trees in the hyenas' territory. Really, it was little more than a dark, knotted stick… but it was enough to hold his weight, hence why he chose to relax and sidle up to it. Shenzi had thought that Ed had gone out with the rest of Banzai's party earlier… though he may have returned after Scar got stuck on the cliff. Besides, no one was bound to question his absence, and they weren't likely to ask specifically for his help. Only she did that.

The sun shined fully on the two of them, rendering him a mere shadow in her vision. But as she drew closer, Shenzi could vaguely make out that the other hyena's back was turned towards her, and he was staring off distantly into the horizon. He must have heard her footsteps by now, though he made no move to acknowledge her. The male only continued to stare off into the distance while a certain, chronic haziness glazed over his eyes. His tongue hung out of his mouth lazily and he was drooling as he spaced out…

Shenzi edged his way in front of him, blocking out the headlong rays of practically blinding sunlight. His focus turned towards her slowly, and after a few moments he decided—seemingly at random—to engage in a bout of rapid, incoherent gibberish… accompanied, of course, with rapid paw-waving and more drooling. The matriarch only stood still for a moment, eying her surroundings carefully, before nodding once…

The situation swiftly changed. In the midst of his quick quirks, the seemingly confused and mute hyena shook his head thrice, causing Shenzi to smile in satisfaction. After a span of several seconds, his motions slowed, and finally stopped as he proceeded to glance around coolly. They were alone. Ed looked back at Shenzi, and the change in his face was apparent. Like the onset of a misty cloud of fog, a certain lucidity had been borne into his eyes, and his tongue was no longer dangling limply out of his jaws. He waited silently, patiently… with a sort of hidden enthusiasm and eagerness.

"What flies… but has no wings?" she queried in a low whisper, stooping her head low and anxiously glancing back up the hill she had just crossed.

"Time," he replied simply, in a small voice which was nonetheless dripping with power and hinting of deadly intelligence. The single word was, in fact, both the answer to the riddle and a question in its own right—unless they were completely sure of being alone, the pair was used to exchanging as few words as remotely possible… just in case.

"Immediately," she answered with a distant sense of urgency. For the second time, she studied the hill, in case the pup or another hyena had followed her.

"Where?"

"Cavern to the west. Take that one route by the river."

"Why?" he asked his last question with a sly smirk, which caused Shenzi to bat him lightly in the shoulder with her paw.

"_Advice_. Matriarch stuff. Ya know…" she cocked an eyebrow at him with mock disbelief, trying her best not to giggle slightly.

"I know exactly," his smirk intensified somewhat, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Oh, _you…_ always ta charmer, Ed… or, should I say, _Askari?_"

"You should," he stated flatly, his countenance having quickly morphed into something much more serious. Something much more deadly. Something… brutally strong. Primeval. Militaristic…

Shenzi smiled and nodded twice before turning and leaving without another word. What she couldn't see was the relapse into seeming stupidity he had once again taken… the metaphorical mist receded from his eyes, and he gibbered and laughed amusedly to himself, almost as if she was never there…

And a few moments after that he was gone completely, having retreated into the very depths of the thick, cast shadows: the patches of darkness that were sprawled across the ground. It was somewhat comforting to him, as he was more than used to creeping about soundlessly though the dark in pursuit… indeed, it was something he'd learned long ago.

* * *

><p><em>HA! Just when you thought this story couldn't have another interesting plot point! x) And I know what you're thinking-"Ed's OOC!"<em>

_..._

_Is he? Really, we know next to nothing about his character, anyways. Is he crazy? Insane? Stupid? Or is there another reason? And keep in mind that there IS one scene where he speaks: he says "yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared," alongside Shenzi and Banzai during Scar's song, "Be Prepared". xD So he can indeed talk._

_Anyways, you've read, so feel free to review. :D I'm assuming that you like this story-otherwise, you would have stopped reading at about Chapter 1 or 2. :p So speak up! :)_

_-Twin out ;)_


	15. Blood and Water I

_**A/N:**_

_AHHHH, NO! xD _

_*clears throat awkwardly* Sorry for the random outburst. First and foremost, I'd like to (very happily) say that** TheTrueJuliet**__ has made me a two-minute-long trailer for this story on Youtube, since I absolutely have no freaking clue about how to make one of said videos. XD She was very happy to do so, and no bribery was involved. I promise. Altough all of you presumably know the premise of this story, I would still advise all of you to go and check it out-the link is on my profile. :D _

_Anyways, as to why I was mad... I was supposed to have a cutesy little flashback in here-the first of several-but... it was put off... to another chapter... grrrrrrrrr. Oh well. Not like that has never happened before. I was particularly wanting to show Mufasa in here, since he's said hardly anything for the last few chapters. But that can wait one more update, I suppose. As I said in Chapter 6, the brothers will meet again, and there will be more dynamic between them. In the meantime, just be patient, and read through this next exposition/dialogue-heavy (but necessary) chapter. There's no deaths or combat or explosions right here, but that's okay... I suppose. x) It's kind of funny how I used to struggle to write a 2,000 word chapter for Instigation, but for this story (especially now) I have lots of trouble fitting everything in. o.o Hmmm._

_Review time. :p_

**_readsmanyfavsfew: _**_YAY, you're back! XD *throws welcoming party* I really thought you'd left me there for a while... or am I just paranoid? o.o Hmmm... xD Anyways, glad you liked them. And I know about Mufasa. :/ He'll be back soon, I presume._

**_ArizonaSivy: _**_Yeah, bold is best, as I mentioned via Zamani-and as you deftly pointed out by using a quote from my own story. XD I don't know about the Latin cursing part, but Ed does have a few things up his sleeve. :p There's a bit more about it this chapter, but don't think I'll give it all away at once. x)_

**_kate: _**_It took 11 days this time: not my best, but not my worst. :D Yay! Admittedly, it took forever for me to do the last half. I don't know why. x.x_

**_Reldor: _**_Awww, you think so? :o *dons medal* Thank you, thank you. XD *bows* And lol about that; I'm thinking Reldorian should be a legit word in the dictionary. :D *also dons a top hat* Want some scones, my good lad?_

**_Sunkissed Fairy: _**_Thank you! :D I'm really glad to hear you still like the story despite the change in the hyenas, since I remember your first review and was worried that that put off my potential readers too much. I try to keep Scar in character as much as possible (which isn't hard since he's the character I relate to most), despite the obvious deviation with his former mercenaries. I'm happy that you love it and I hope you enjoy the chapter-as well as continuing to read! :D_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Glad you weren't expecting that (I'd be disappointed if you did XD), and that's an interesting anecdote about your sister. lol That's actually part of the reason why I made Ed that way-I didn't want the story to just be *hyena chase*/*Scar escapes*/"Mufasa chase*/*Scar escapes* over and over again, because that would be boring. And to be completely honest, the hyena pup scene was all last minute. I wanted Shenzi to look for Ed, but didn't want her to find him *right* there *right* off the bat-simply because that wouldn't be realistic. XD Glad you liked it anyways. :D_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Funny you should say that last part, because that was exactly my intent. XD Glad you liked it, and many thanks again for the wonderful trailer! :D _

**_mom_**_: There's more plot twists. XD And it *was* planned to Chapter 19 (just as the end of the first act, so to speak), but I've only postponed various chapters about four billion times by now, so... heh... It'll be a lot longer than that. x)_

**_Ceu Praca: _**_Yep, he does! XD lol And if you aren't, then you should respond to our PM conversation. :p *poke* Or were you the last person to comment there? XD It's been so long I can't remember. o.o_

**_Guest: _**_*waves* Hey there, is this Snappy? :D *pokes person behind computer* Sounds like you, lol... especially since you mentioned Zamani. :p (And if it isn't, I apologize for poking you. XD)_

_On with the story. :D_

* * *

><p>Scar made another long, jagged scratch in the rock… still bored out of his mind. That made four hundred and fifty six… or was it four hundred and <em>forty <em>six…? No, it was four hundred and… four and fifty two?

He'd lost count again. Time to start over. Holding up one digit and exposing the sharp, hooked claw within, he made another cut in the otherwise smooth, unmarred rock, starting from the beginning for the fifth—or possibly sixth—time. One. Two. Three. Five.

No… _four _came after three and before five; five didn't come between three and six and after four. Or was that right at all? Scar growled, tired of such mind games, and rubbed his temple with his unsheathed paw. That was enough of that; he would have to find another way to amuse himself. Counting his scratches in the rock was too fatigue-inducing and frustrating. The hyenas were still waiting at the bottom, and they didn't appear to be tiring as a whole: whenever one left to get a drink or a bite to eat, twenty or so still remained at the bottom. The only thing that was cause for hope was the fact that, if a small amount of meat was really that important to them, some would probably leave soon to hunt. Maybe then he could plan his escape!

Although, on second thought, that didn't seem like such an appealing option either. If his mind was too mushy and tired to count to five coherently, then planning a way to elude the hyenas was probably several bounds outside of his current mental capacities.

And his physical capacities as well. If a chase with the hyenas was anything like the chase with the lionesses—which was still rendering him exhausted—then chances were he would only last about a minute. Maybe two. His limbs still throbbed and ached with pain and soreness, and a horrible, stifling thirst burned in the back of his throat. And there was no chance to get water. It was surely only a matter of time before his dehydration sent him into a comatose torpor. Then killed him.

Or maybe he would starve to death first… he didn't know. Nor could he remember the last time he'd eaten, which was somewhat disconcerting. He must have found a way to slip in a meal recently—probably sometime in the last week, in the midst of failing to hunt for the hyenas. His foggy mind tried to think about which sounded more appealing—succumbing to fiery, insatiable thirst or to violent pangs of hunger—though weighing the blazing fire in his throat against the constant pain in his belly was hard, and his thoughts were inconclusive. Eventually one of them would wear him down, and it probably wouldn't be a very pleasant experience when it did. At an impasse, he flopped down on his side again, irritated and somewhat restless. As well as hot—the full force of the midday sun was beating down on him. Worst of all, since the face of his refuge was facing to the north, towards the Outlands, there was no chance for the sun to cast his ledge into peaceful shade, either. At least not until nightfall. He curled up and settled his head on his forepaws, little more than a sweaty, stressed out heap of fur sprawled across a claustrophobia and acrophobia-inducing rock shelf.

Though he knew he shouldn't have, he cast a dubious look back at the ground. Oh, how far it was to the bottom…

"Hey," his eyes momentarily locked with those of the random hyena which had addressed him loudly, "ya gonna come down, gatito? I just wanna talk with you."

"_No_," he replied sharply, "I would rather notconverse with you, or with any of your kind. Now leave me be," he growled, irritated, and fixed him with his most intimidating glare. It earned a somewhat submissive smirk from the hyena, who backed up a few steps. Hyenas worked in numbers, but were generally weak and ineffective individuals—that much he knew firsthand.

"Fine. Your choice. But you're not gonna outlast us, cachorro."

"Think what you wish," he grumbled stubbornly, finally turning his back towards the pack below. With nothing else to do, he halfheartedly decided to resume his absent clawing of the stone in front of him. One… two… three… fo—

"**Hey, leoncita!**"

"_WHAT?_" he snapped angrily, his claws inadvertently scratching the entire rock face as he jumped in surprise. The lion was just about ready to tear something to shreds—whether it be the boulder surrounding him or any hyena he could get his paws on…

"Wasn't talking ta you, tonto! Go back to ya lil' corner."

Scar cocked an eyebrow at this, his fury momentarily replaced by confusion. If they weren't yelling at him, then who could they possibly be speaking to? Another hyena?

"Would you care to elucidate—?"

"HEY!" a voice piped up from somewhere outside his range of vision. One that was rough… yet clearly feminine and feline. And familiar. "I'm back," the voice, clearly a lioness', added, and a short thud was heard thereafter. Scar sniffed the air delicately, and quickly recognized the stench of rotting meat. Wait… was that—

"That's not gonna be 'nuff, Zira—" Banzai started out, but was quickly interrupted.

"Save your breath. There's more where this came from." A short pause followed as he could see Shenzi's male counterpart eye her suspiciously… "His debt is paid. Now you must fulfill your word, hyenas—let him down from there, and let no harm be done to him. Or I'll see to it that you suffer at my paws," she threatened condescendingly, leaving the hyenas to ponder over whether or not her words had any force behind them. For all they knew, she was still a Pridelander, with many lionesses tailing right behind her…

Banzai snarled at her, but relented, seeing no other option at the moment. He would have to ask Shenzi for orders soon…

"Alright, let's file outta here. Just show me this meat and… I'll leave," he growled somewhat underhandedly, not sure about what else he could do.

Scar still couldn't see Zira, though she nodded in placid agreement. The lion had to admit that he was surprised; he had all but given up hope for her return. She had come back for him. And now she was his salvation. Only one question remained as the other hyenas stood up shakily, and Banzai and Zira left completely…

Why had she when she could have left him to die?

* * *

><p>"Did'cha see anybody out there?" Shenzi asked warily, her head popping out of the cavern to study the landscape around her. Taking a sniff of the wind, she couldn't smell anything… but she was still nervous for reasons she didn't quite understand.<p>

The male hyena across from her shook his head sadly, his expression somewhat disappointed.

"Do you doubt my word, Shenzi Marie? Have misgivings against my former occupation? Reminisce on the fact that I spent my entire puphood in the paws of the Brotherhood—indeed, don't think I learned nothing from them…" he opined flatly, only smirking as Shenzi glared at him, puzzled. It took several more moments of disquieting silence before he finally sighed, giving in. Pragmatism wasn't always the best approach with her…

"There's no one behind us. I checked."

"Good," she responded, relieved. "But I don't see why ya keep citing the 'Hood. After all, ya _musta _slipped up some way in ta past… otherwise ya wouldn't be here."

He smiled at her ruefully, the glint of his sharp fangs barely visible under his lips.

"Alas, it was no fault of mine—blame my traitorous allies. Though I suppose some good came out of my escape. I met a certain matriarch who took me in… and my eternal gratitude for that," he placed one of his front paws on top of hers and fixed her with his attempt at a warm smile—which ended up appearing as a brutal grin instead. However, Shenzi knew him well enough to understand his intentions, and allowed all four of his toes on that foot to come into contact with her own five-digit paw…

"Does that hurt you?" she asked concernedly, her eyes always transfixed on that one extra stub on the end of his appendage…

"It did, once. But sometimes the crime is worse than the punishment," he responded gruffly and cryptically, flexing the remainder of his intact toes absently. The faint sprinkling of desert sand inside the cavern quickly stuck between their digits, leaving a somewhat rough, gritty feeling on their paws… which fit with the terse mood in the air.

"Ya still miss 'em, don'tcha?" she asked bemusedly.

"Of course. I was taught to be loyal from the day I understood what that word meant. But that matters no more. My old life is gone, and must be kept a secret. I'm a fugitive, and you know how they'd react."

"Yeah," Shenzi agreed solemnly, not wanting to think about how the pack would respond if they found out that a former assassin was nonchalantly playing stupid amongst their ranks. They certainly wouldn't have tolerated it. Especially not Zamani. But then, that was the beauty of his alias, Ed—everyone assumed he was dumb as nails, and so they never even bothered to raise an eyebrow in suspicion. He was hers and hers alone: no one else asked for his help or guidance. And having him had proved useful more than once—hence why she had decided to let him stay in the first place. Admittedly, though, it had become much more than that since then…

"I need ya help with something, 'Skari, " she gritted her teeth blankly, getting to the point of why she had risked coming in the first place… The male hyena again grinned, his expression almost becoming one of courtesy and gallantry…

"Then know that I am and always shall be at your service, _Shenzi Marie Predatora Vendetta Jacquelina Hyena_," he took her fine, young paw in his scarred, mutilated one and planted a gentle kiss on top of it. She remained still and even smiled bashfully, allowing him to display this unusual show of affection, despite the fact that she was typically a tough individual who was greatly opposed to such actions. Of course, she didn't doubt that he must have been such a hyena as well. After all, he had killed others for the honor of his family…

"Thanks. That's very touching," she responded absently, not really knowing how best to respond to… that.

"Coming from you, that's a…?" he trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

"Compliment. It's a compliment, Askari," she attempted to mimic his rough, reserved way of speaking, but ultimately failed as a small, playful grin parted her lips…

"Good. You know it would be dishonorable if I were to offend you in any way. Now, what was this that you needed assistance for?" he again grinned in his somewhat rough, brusque way, his fangs openly showing through the good-natured expression… which would have, to a normal hyena, been significantly intimidating—perhaps even blood-chilling—as well as distracting from the slight charming intent present in it.

"Scar. Ya know… we've talked 'bout this before… somewhat," she trailed off slightly, absently tapping the ground with her paw…

"Yes, indeed. I still remember. We were exiled by Ahadi, and we wanted to get rid of Mufasa…?"

"Yeah," she nodded in the affirmative, looking at him steadily, "and Scar… well, we figured he was our one shot ta get rid'a 'im. But now Mufasa knows about his side of the plan… I tried ta make the best of ta situation—to have Scar hunt for us, but… he didn't pay his ransom, and Mufasa looks like he's none too happy. I dunno any of the other details… Whaddya think I should do? Zamani's pressurin' me, and Banzai… he's bein' Banzai, ya know? He never listens ta me."

Askari smirked, his teeth glinting in what little sunlight had reached through the cavern and was dappling its cold, stone floor.

"Exactly. He's crazy for you. You know that, right?"

"Banzai?" she retorted, briefly distracted from her situation with Scar, "Pffft… _no_. We're like brotha and sista. It'd be creepy, 'Skari."

"Really now? Would it be? He always looks at you, you know…"

"He does _not_," she insisted, shifting uncomfortably, "and it's a moot point, I'm 'fraid. I don't feel like I need a mate yet, ya know?"

"I know exactly," he responded dismissively and flatly, turning away slightly and digging his claws into the earth… not meeting her gaze.

"Anyways… I was thinkin'…" she continued absently, "I don't wanna kill Scar yet. Zamani thinks it's 'cause we knew him as pups 'n' all… but that's ridiculous, isn't it?" Askari respectfully nodded, agreeing with her… "We still have a chance with him… _if _we do this carefully. He's smart, but somethin' of a coward… if we want to remain in control, then we'll have to use brute force—that's the area he lacks in. Of course, Mufasa can't know of his brother's relation with we hyenas… Because Scar may not like us—that much's for certain—but if there is anyone he hates more, it's that brotha of his. If we can use that… then we can get into the Pridelands. Because let's face it, our kind would not stand a chance tryin' to take the whole lands from Mufasa by force."

"The Brotherhood could," he contradicted reservedly, staring off for a moment before pausing and scratching the dirt absently with a paw… "I could assassinate Mufasa if you wanted me to. The lionesses need a political leader, and it'd be anarchy without him. A divided pride cannot stand—much less fight."

Shenzi smirked diffidently. Bold plans like _that _were not her strong point. She was still new to the idea of matriarchy and leadership.

"Yeah, but… wouldn't ta lionesses fight us every step of the way? It'd be kinda obvious we killed ta king… not to the discredit of your abilities, a' course."

"Hmmm, if you think," was all he admitted in reply, his brow furrowed and his features sharp… but relenting. He was dangerous, yet on her side—and it was a good thing for that. Askari was like bottled lightning… something wild, yet under her control. And _she_ was the one who had to be careful about when she released it. For the lightning would do its job perfectly. It would strike.

"I was thinkin'… that ya could spy on 'im. Make sure the intimidation goes the way 't's planned: that he does our biddin', not his. And you can keep an eye on Banzai s'well. I can't do anything like that, but you can. I'm gonna give Scar a second chance at the throne… for our sake, not his… but if things get out of hand or Mufasa learns about _us_… then ya can get rid'a that lion. Think ya'd be able ta do that, Askari?"

The male hyena visibly perked up at the prospect of a challenge, his ears pricked forwards and his teeth bore slightly into an enthusiastic grimace. His eyes narrowed and he reflexively sheathed his paws, almost as though he expected to start immediately. Indeed, reconnaissance and murder were what he was good at… and in his new home, he only got to use it every so often. It was depressing, really… but now was his chance. His chance to prove himself. To Shenzi.

"Of course. He'll never even know I was there."

Shenzi smiled, satisfied. "That's exactly the answer I was hopin' for: now do us proud, Askari. Not only for me, but for hyena kind. We deserve ta live in paradise… and you're gonna help us get there."

* * *

><p><em>A hyena... brotherhood? Of spies? That sounds ominous... but how did Askari get there in the first place and pose as Ed? O.o I guess you'll have to see some other time. XD Also, the riddle last chapter ("What flies but has no wings?-Time") is actually a *slight* reference to my next fic, which I'm already writing. It's about 35k words as of now, but probably won't be released for... quite a while. More info on my profile. :p<em>

_I suppose there's not a lot more to say here. Suppose I should go work on the next chapter (or go to bed, since it's about 1:00 am). I apologize if I sound overly wordy-it was my brother's birthday on the third and now I'm hyper on sugar. :D If you review, you'll recieve a piece of leftover red velvet cake! (Ooooooh... :p) !Peace!_

_-Twin out (:_


	16. Blood and Water II

_**A/N:**_

_Hmmm... another quick update. XD I know I updated yesterday, but what can I say? I had to keep writing. Personally, I felt the last chapter was kind of shoddy, though I did try my best on it and came up with a semi-satisfactory result. I think I was just miffed because this chapter was supposed to be in the last chapter. Oh well, you know how that goes. x) Also, I used some Spanish words last chapter and forgot to explain what they meant. So, for all who are curious, these are the words I used: c__achorro (cub, male), tonto (fool, male), gatita (little cat/kitten, female), and leoncita (little lion, female)._

_This is probably the first chapter whereupon I elucidate on Scar and Mufasa's relationship. I know the focus has been shifting slightly away from that, though it will eventually move back towards it. The rest was kind of a build-up to add context to all of it. The only problem is that I have a bunch of events and plot lines to continue with, but due to chapter length I can only really add exposition on two or possibly three at a time._

_Review time (again, not many comments this chapter because I just updated yesterday). :p_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Haha, I thought so. It sounded just like you. XD And no worries about the PM. As has been demonstrated in our conversation several times, my replying skills are lax, to say the least. And that's funny about the acrophobic thing! :p Maybe great minds think alike...? xD I kid, I kid..._

**_kate: _**_BWAHAHAHA I HURRIED THIS TIME! XD ...I know, you're probably unsure about how to respond to that. lol Random outburst. I apologize. :p _

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_No, perhaps not. :/ And Zira is... you know... Zira. She angers people unnecessarily. XD So, you're an Askari fan? That's good... very good. :p_

**_Reldor: _**_Yep, a brotherhood... ooh, sounds dangerous, right? XD But seriously, on a moreor note... yeah, Shenzi's not very observant, is she? She DOES has no idea about what is happens. x.x Alright, that was a bad response... but, needless to say, you made me laugh out loud. Again. I don't know what it is... but SOMEDAY I'll find a Reldorian comment of yours that isn't funny-just wait and see! lol :p_

**_mom: _**_Nah, I just relate to him because he's quiet and he likes to think through things. Plus a few other reasons. XD_

_On with the story._ _:)_

* * *

><p>"W-Where are you taking me to?" Scar halfheartedly tripped over another large rock, sending several shards of broken scree clattering down the hillside and colliding with the land far below. Indeed, he had never seen such a place like this before, which was why he had bothered to query the lioness in the first place. It was a… rock land. In every definition of the word. To his left the ground fell away sharply into a rocky hillside, and to his right were large, stretching fields of huge, hulking boulders. Certainly not a part of the Pridelands—indeed, the whole of the land was sterile and barren, with nothing in sight but the glimmering whiteness of the bleached boulders, and the occasional straight, stick-like tree, whereupon the secretary birds were roosting.<p>

"To the rest of the meat. You must be hungry, right?"

Scar didn't say anything for several moments, still oddly thoughtful and wary.

"The… rest? Did you not give it all to Banzai?"

Zira shrugged nonchalantly, again impressing him slightly with her cavalier and clearly clever attitude. She had covered her tracks well.

"Eh… most of it. They won't miss the rest—I hid it here."

Scar shrugged indifferently, secretly wondering how on earth she had managed to get all of that from the Pridelands. Perhaps that was what took her so long. If anything, she should have hurried and come earlier instead of hiding the cache so far out—maybe then he wouldn't have had to endure so much time on that _cursed _rock shelf… though he didn't say anything more on this point.

He only tripped over another boulder, nearly falling to the ground as the distracting sun beat down on him mercilessly. By far the worst part of this rock land was the fact that there was no shade… anywhere. Ever.

Zira took a left and faced the downwards slope, before carefully studying the uniform landscape in front of her. Way off in the distance, _barely _visible towards the horizon, was the Elephant Graveyard… which helped Scar find his bearings somewhat. They'd moved towards the northeast, into the Outlands… and the hyenas' territory was to the west. The sun would set on it in about eight hours—but in the meantime, the celestial orb was in its noontime zenith, which was miserable to all involved. The lioness finally took a careful, yet bold, step down the hill… And overturned an unassuming rock. Nothing.

"Here… start looking. It's over around here somewhere," she motioned vaguely with her paw, before turning back and poking her head into a small crevice. Scar obeyed, still somewhat dubious, and delicately flipped over some random rocks. Nothing was under these, either. The lion stopped for a moment, watching as his counterpart probed her small head into a place far too small for anything else to possibly fit…

"Tell me something, now. How could you have _possibly_ hidden it anywhere hereabouts?"

"Heheh… Don't think so hard, Scar," she reproached him bluntly with a small, amused chuckle, causing him to narrow his eyes indignantly behind her back. Of course, this was coming from the lioness who was poking her head into the dark nook of a rock like a total idiot. He scratched at the formation absently with his claws, secretly cursing his abominable luck as he prepared to move a sizable stone…

_I could be king. I could be king… Right. Now. _

Of course, he wasn't paying much attention, and wasn't prepared for the noisy hissing of a lizard as its home was rudely uprooted. Jumping slightly, he swatted at it, secretly wondering if lizards were edible… but, as per his usual unfortunate streak, the move swayed him off balance, and he quickly tumbled headlong down the sharp, rocky hill.

"NO, SCAR!"

Zira immediately called out to him, though her cacophonous entreaties were about as much help as a floating twig was to someone drowning in a river. Somewhat out of place and distracting. She looked around, studying her surroundings carefully, and instantly shot after him. She ran straight down the slope and synergized with gravity, not paying much attention as the jagged rocks cut her paws and nearly rendered her a falling projectile. Finally it appeared as though she was catching up to him… and so, without second thought, she leapt…

_Crash!_

The two of them landed on the flat edge of a particularly large rock, which was fortuitous—if only because it stopped their rolling down the tortuous landscape. Scar remained there for a moment, dazed. His vision blurred as the bright sun shone down on his emerald eyes, and he was about to weakly cover the sight with his paw… before a large, feline head inadvertently appeared before him and cast out the overhead rays instead.

"_Get off me_," he commanded sharply, finally realizing that Zira was on top of him and struggling to sit up. It was a rather uncomfortable position for him, and for her as well—presumably, at least. She only glanced at him respectfully, her red eyes widening slightly as she turned around and slunk off of him. For several moments she crouched on the other end of the rock, her tail twitching somewhat in anxiety as she waited on him. The older lion gritted his teeth in pain, though he slowly began to roll onto his stomach and stand weakly on his shaky paws…

"I _could_ have handled the circumstances myself, err…" his frustration dissipated for a moment as the lioness' name momentarily slipped his memory… "Zira." The lioness cocked an eyebrow surreptitiously, though she said little… as usual.

Neither of them said anything for a short time afterward. The dark lion finally decided to walk about on the rock face, but at his first step he nearly fell to his knees, somewhat jarred. Scar tried to regain his balance, still out of breath, and was eventually able to manage a halfhearted limp towards the patient lioness. He was growing older—that much was for certain—and he absently wondered how Mufasa was faring. _Probably worse_, he pondered spitefully, though whether or not that was true was debatable. The stress and dehydration could also have been a factor in it. Zira took a single pace towards him, lest he needed her help, though she did so cautiously…

"Hey, looks like we found it. Nice job, Scar," she suddenly congratulated him quietly, causing him to look around confusedly. Surely enough, the lioness' head was focused on a single crevice… and in that small expanse, which had once been a dark void, the mutilated and barely recognizable remains of a dead gazelle and the back half of a wildebeest stared back at them.

"Oh, goody," he interjected with mock sarcasm, though in reality he was actually quite relieved at this discovery… With a final staggering step he gave his right leg a rest and settled down with seeming placidity on the cramped—but flat—surface. Though he appeared to be complacent and cool in his exterior, he was secretly studying Zira closely, even as she turned away and set the dead gazelle in front of him dutifully.

"I've already eaten, dear," she lied dismissively, not wanting him to feel guilty about taking it for himself. In reality, he couldn't care less—though he did nod at her subtly in acknowledgment. Zira backed up a few paces, not wanting to interfere, and casually stretched out on the rock face. Nothing more was uttered on her part as she set her head on her forepaws in a habit similar to his and turned away, not meeting his gaze… even as he stared at her contemplatively, his powers of thought somewhat restored as the appetizing scent of antelope trickled by his nose and caused his mouth to preemptively drip with saliva.

_It doesn't make sense_, Scar pondered absently, cutting through the skin and fur of the animal with his claw in order to reveal the aged, hardened, rotting flesh within. The lion took a glance at it quickly, disgusted by the revelation that the flies had beaten him to it. His insides churned slightly and he began to feel nauseous as he gazed upon his maggot-infested meal, though he still lowered his head and took a reluctant bite. To do so was his only option… unless he wanted to starve to death in the unknown wastelands. And although it was hard to stomach, it didn't taste quite as spoiled as he'd expected. In the end, he had devoured worse—much, much worse. As much as he hated being in this position, beggars could not afford to be choosers.

Was this a ploy? A device to get his attention and to quell his misgivings? Or was this a sincerely genuine token of loyalty? Had it been the former, it would have been a very showy and circuitous trick indeed. But if it was the latter… how could it be? Zira was a stranger from Mufasa's land. He could not trust her… but, at the same time… she knew about the hyenas. About his associations with a reputably vile race. He had been dying on the ledge, and she had come to his aid. If her ultimate goal was his demise, it would have been more practical… more efficient to… to…

_Let me go… _he finished his thought conclusively, pausing as he greedily swallowed another mouthful of blood-smattered flesh.

For once, he had doubt. But at the same time, he still had his reasons for the way he acted. He always did. How had she obtained the ransom? Even a huntress as good as she could not have pulled off such a feat as she had displayed. It must have been the same from the pantry… but how? How could she have made several trips in peace, especially after the alarm had been raised?

He had to know… but not now. He was preoccupied with picking the carcass clean, and was still thinking it through completely… Indeed, all this thought brought him back to a similar experience: the first gazelle he had ever caught, as well as the days leading up to it. And with that, he found himself trailing off, the fogginess of his mind receding and a lucid memory taking its place...

* * *

><p>"Hey, Taka…" a voice called out through the sparsely-wooded savannah, "where are you?"<p>

All was quiet. All was silence. Except for the voice, which had been borne from the absolute desolation around them… and had quickly faded back into it. The grass grew tall here on the prairie: long, golden stalks shooting up from the ground and covering the lands with a healthy head of blond hair. The carpet wavered in the healthy and invigorating stir of the wind, momentarily revealing a small, golden-furred, and well-camouflaged lion cub… who was looking for his brother in the grass. Of course, aforementioned cub had forgotten that his sibling was such a dark shade of brown—hiding in the bright vegetation would not have been fortuitous.

"Please, Taka. I… I give up! Show yourself!"

Silence. Again. Frustrated, the cub huffed to himself dejectedly: his brother was always so good at this game… the only worry was that he had hidden himself _too _well. It was his job to watch over him, and he didn't want to guess at the punishment his father would give him for letting him wander away. Allaying his sudden fear, the cub wandered towards a nearby tree and sidled up to it, attempting to catch his breath. He inhaled, and then exhaled… in, and then out… in, and then—hey, wait! What was that dark blur in the tree? The one that was rapidly descending from the top of the branch—

"Ooof!" the golden cub yelped in surprise as the smaller lion came crashing down on top of him, his miniature claws extended and playfully digging into his older sibling's pliable hide…

"Ha! That's six for me and zero for you, Muffy," the younger cub taunted enthusiastically, enjoying his triumph for a moment as he stood on top of his older, stronger brother. Their father had always taught him to be cunning and aggressive… and for good reason, apparently. For Taka, it was working. But for Mufasa… he was clearly still catching on.

"What are you, brother, part panther? Lions don't belong in trees! They're off-limits from now on," Mufasa declared this change in the rules authoritatively, which earned him a momentary, mock-indignant glare from the lion on top of him.

"Maybe I _am _part panther, Muffy. You just want to change the rules because I can climb better than you can! Admit it! Admit I'm the best at this game," he teased with an air of mild pride, pretending to ignore his brother as he wriggled and squirmed under him. Of course, Taka didn't notice Mufasa's jubilant smirk when he turned his head away.

"Part panther, huh?" Mufasa affirmed quietly, causing the younger lion to nod happily, "well, I'm sorry to say this, Taka, but…" he trailed off momentarily, a swift move on his part causing Taka to fall to the ground, confused. Mufasa seized the opportunity and used it to his advantage, leaping up and deftly pinning the smaller lion under his paws before continuing, "… lions beat panthers, heh."

"What?" Taka contradicted argumentatively, seeing that the situation was no longer in his favor, "no, they don't!"

It was Mufasa's turn to smile as he held his brother firmly in his grasp, watching as the younger lion vainly attempted to free himself from his immovable hold. Taka grunted, somewhat miffed, though he promptly surrendered and politely inquired as to whether or not Mufasa would be as kind as to let him up. The older lion waited a moment, but relented gracefully at the sound of his brother's continued pleas. Mufasa watched his brother for a few seconds as he excitedly found his footing, but was quickly distracted by a leonine figure approaching from the distance.

"DAD!" he called out happily, obtaining the attention of the faraway silhouette. The older cub ran towards it, kicking up dust as he bolted off into the horizon. Taka coughed and cleared his vision from the sudden cloud, but was content with tagging along with his brother from behind. Speeding into a trot, he lost sight of Mufasa as he approached the originally singular form, who could be heard playing with his firstborn son behind a curtain of foliage. Obviously he was in one of his better moods, the younger lion reflected happily.

"…I can't believe how big you're getting! Oh, _oh_, hehehehehe!" the patriarch and king of the pride laughed deeply as Mufasa clambered over him, playfully tugging on his ear and pretending he had knocked him down himself. Taka moved into the open, letting the gaze of his father and brother rest on him.

"And you too, Taka! Come here," he invited his youngest son towards him with a small grin. The dark lion consented, giggling slightly as his father embraced him in a warm, reassuring hug. Prince and king remained there for several moments, the cub only taking in the familiar, dusty scent of his soft fur.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you. You both are growing up so fast," he repeated breathlessly, momentarily releasing Taka—who subsequently jumped onto his back and good-naturedly knocked Mufasa to the ground with a sharp _thud_. The latter growled enthusiastically, engaging his younger sibling in a friendly tussle. Their father continued to watch them, a smile appearing on his face.

"_And I know one of you will make a great king_."

The vision gradually dissipated like a mist, the rapid and memorable flashes of his father's face—which were already blurry because of the more poignant image of Mufasa in the foreground—vanished. Following suit, the vivid hues of his savanna surroundings faded into the blackness of utter oblivion, and soon it was only Taka… himself… slowly succumbing as the real world took its place. He tried to keep hold of it a little longer, but soon there was nothing for him to look at. Nothing but the gruesome body of the gazelle, which was still resting on the rock ledge. Scar's face was half-buried in it, the blood of the animal soaking his face and completely saturating his goatee. He was still eating ravenously and attempting to fill his insatiable appetite… though he had been unaware of that fact until now, even as another morsel of food disappeared down his throat. The lion stopped, rubbing his head and attempting to clear his vision. Was he seeing things…?

Oh well. It was irrelevant. So much had changed…

* * *

><p>So much had changed… so much.<p>

Mufasa reflected on that fact stubbornly, his expression blank and his features hopeless. It had been a little over a week, and what of it? He'd lost his entire family, more or less. Everything was taking a horrible turn for the worst, and that was a fact that was inconsolable. Everywhere he looked, there was no chance for him to reach the light he was so desperately seeking. To do the nonexistent right deed which would permanently solve the problem. The figurative glimmer at the end of the tunnel seemed pale and weak, if it even existed at all.

He shifted slightly in the den: his first move in about half an hour. It was dark out, and during these hours he preferred to be alone. But he was never alone—not really. In the cave with him were twenty or so sleeping lionesses, and from another den he could still hear the horrible, blood-chilling wailing of his isolated mate.

Ex-mate. For she was his no longer—she was merely another toll and casualty of their son's grievous murder. She had not recovered. In fact, she was worse off than he was. Much worse off. Sometimes he wanted to reassure her, though there was nothing reassuring about their circumstances. Sometimes he wanted to remind her of the love they had shared, but it was clearly gone, so it didn't matter. It was dreadfully moot. Like a glint of gold in the midst of a heap of unimportant rocks. Sarabi was gone. Simba was gone. And… Scar was gone. No, that wasn't quite right… Taka was gone, his younger brother. Scar was just an accident. Another thing on his back that wore him down. He was just as responsible—if not more so—for Scar's scar as he was for Simba's death in the stampede. If only he'd learned from his mistakes, and kept a closer eye on his son than he had on his brother.

Occasionally, before the stampede, he had considered what would have happened if he had lost Simba. These wonderings were typically idle and depressing trains of thought, borne out of the strong and parental love that had grown between the king and his prince. They reached their peak as his son became a young and mischievous cub, always looking for adventure and trouble with Nala, his best friend and his betrothed. But as the prince aged, with no significant harm having befallen him, slowly Mufasa began to let it go. To let his guard down. And it was then that the stampede was set… and he was too late. Admittedly, though, the sheer division between his own pride and family was hard to comprehend, and easily surpassed and exceeded his wildest fears and expectations.

He sighed, contemplative and meditative in the midst of the enveloping silence. The lack of cacophonous sounds and busy bustling was comforting. A small dose of content in a sea of intoxicating sufferings. For several seconds all was silent… until the scream of a tormented soul again pierced the air like a knife, which cut directly into his heart and tortured him incessantly. The shrillness continued for an unbearable period of time, though it inevitably gave way to a torrent of stifled sobs.

She wanted to kill his brother. Though, really, what good would that do? Nothing. Besides, the hyenas beat her to it… Simba was dead. It was irreversible. And the murder of his brother would only signify another lost family member. First it was Uru, their mother… then Ahadi, their father. Then Simba. And finally Scar. Mufasa waited a moment, pondering whether or not he should add Sarabi to the list as well… seeing as how she was more dead than alive.

According to the ancient leonine law—which had been set in place at the beginning of the first king's rule and was enforced by all the lion kings in the royal ancestry since then—a member of a royal couple which had divorced could not find another legitimate mate. Supposedly this was to prevent affairs and the like from tearing apart the kingdom, though the binding effect of the law, which was supposed to have been set for the well-being of every lion, now left him in anguish. He had no heir. Not anymore. And unless he adopted a rogue cub, of which there were few in number and very far between, then he had no next in line…

Zazu flew in, though Mufasa barely noticed his majordomo's entrance. The bird only nodded respectfully to the monarch and ambled sheepishly towards the back of the cavern. He had sacrificed his warm nest and taken up the habit of sleeping with the large, boisterous lions in the cave… all of which could easily crush or suffocate him on accident. This was so that he could console his king, lest another scarring nightmare were to conquer his peaceful sleep. But after several more moments of pondering, Mufasa decided to ask Zazu to perform a task for him... It may not have been much, but it was something… a warning. Towards the hyenas. A message that he would not back down, even in the midst of his sea of troubles. He would persevere in the memory of his lost brother, his lost ex-mate, his lost son, his lost mother, and his lost father: all of his deceased and tormented family members, whom he had dearly loved but could not save in time.

"Zazu…" he addressed his servant patiently, the tired bird quickly fluttering to his side and nodding his head to express his dutiful attention. "Go to Shenzi, leader of the hyenas… and tell her that no matter what she does to me or my family, no matter who of my subjects she tries to slay, no matter _what_… she will be exiled—her kind along with her—until the day she dies. For both the crimes of the previous generation and the murder of my sibling."

"Yes, Sire," Zazu nodded assent and promptly exited, causing Mufasa to look out at the forlorn world with a sense of sadness and despair.

_So much has changed…_

* * *

><p><em>Interesting... looks like they now have a copy-and-paste option on here, as well as a spell checker. Too bad I've only needed to use the former once and have no need for the latter since it's already been on MS Word. XD *shoots 'no, duh' look at FFn*<em>

_Anyways... there are obviously a lot of unanswered questions now. How did Zira get the meat? Will Scar learn to trust her or not? What happened between Muffy and Taka, and how did their parents die? What's wrong with Sarabi? Why is Ed acting the way he is, and what is he going to do?_

_Any predictions, anyone...? Speculations? *awkward pause* Don't look at me: I'm not going to do it for you, since I'm the author and that would give it all away. And make it boring. So review, and leave your comments and thoughts. I'll see you all next chapter!_

_-Twin out ;)_


	17. Home Problems

_**A/N:**_

_Not much to say right now. XD Here's chapter 17... Review time. :p_

**_kate: _**_Yup, here it is. :]_

**_ArizonaSivy: _**_Funny you should say that... XD I've always kind of wondered whether or not my stories were like that. But that's great you're pondering it! :D Stay tuned. :p_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Heehee, feel free to use that. :D Glad you liked my phrases there. XD lol And that's a very interesting thought... you'll have to keep reading to see what will happen. :)_

**_Ceu Praca: _**_That he is! :o Though, then again, he's supposed to be. Mwahahaha. XD And I'm glad you liked the trailer - I was very pleased with it myself. :)_

**_Reldor: _**_Ooooh, interesting thought there. XD And I see you're still laughing about Simba's death... 16 chapters ago. lol And yes, you get a piece of red velvet cake. In fact, everyone does. xD_

**_Chris Boyce: _**_Thank you so much for your review. (: It's nice to get some criticism too (as I said in our PM XD). I know my AN's get really talkative... but I'm trying to work on that. I may not have any in future stories. x) I kept your tips in mind and tried to polish this chapter up a little more. :D Thanks again!_

**_Forever Nocturnal: _**_Alas, Zira *is* Zira... I suppose she complicates things somewhat, doesn't she? lol And Mufasa will show up again - he hasn't faded completely. And you'll have to keep reading to see. (:_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Heehee, it's nice to hear your enthusiasm! :D I'm guessing your room never ended up getting completely clean, did it? XD Anyways, I'm glad someone liked the flashback. :p Muffy and Taka are cute together. And no problem! I've already gotten several positive comments about the trailer. :)_

_Read on. :D_

* * *

><p>"Why are we walking back together? Such is not wise."<p>

"Hush, Askari. Jus'… follow me," she rebutted quietly, peeking out from behind a small, leafy plant to make sure they were alone—of course, she was just being paranoid: it was rare to find another being out in the hyenas' territory, especially during the busy midday hunts. She merely wanted to quell his apparent enthusiasm. Besides, blackmail required… well, force. And threat. Askari was not a bad candidate to complete this task, especially when they were mostly alone for the day and he could safely afford to tag along with her. Shenzi paced forwards a little more and reached the vista of a dusty hill, looking down on the Elephant Graveyard and the hyena cave.

"Alright… now _stay quiet_," she repeated dogmatically, not wanting anyone to notice and question his absence… or ask as to why she had been associating with him during such a critical moment. The male hyena fixed her with a glare, and she knew him well enough to decipher his subtle hints completely. Even when he wasn't speaking—he usually didn't.

_Really? You're telling _**me** _to stay quiet? _

"Hey, I was just checkin'. Ya nearly blew it that one time you sang along ta Scar's song—what was it? Oh, yeah, _Be Prepared_." She retorted with a hint of accusation: if the rest of the hyenas had not been so high with excitement that they would have failed to notice, the situation could have gone awry.

"I apologize, Shenzi… I was over-enthusiastic. It will not happen again: I swear to you," he affirmed darkly and seriously, his teeth bore into an expression of submission and a desire to please. Shenzi stared at him a moment.

_A' course he says that. He was taught ta be obedient ta his superiors… that's why his finger was… removed. _

She sighed brusquely and turned away from him. Indeed, she missed the slight, inward glance he gave her as she rotated around and continued walking. A look that was clearly… forlorn. It lasted for a moment or two, but his foresight and prudence demanded that he immediately remove the almost clairvoyant look in his eyes and replace it with a much more unassuming—almost stupid—glazed and fixed stare.

"There ya are! _Where have ya been_, niecey? I thought you were lost fa a little while!" Zamani appeared from behind a rock, causing Shenzi to practically jump out of her skin in surprise. Of course, she was grateful for the fact that Zamani had not witnessed Ed talking—otherwise she would have had a _lot_ of explaining to do.

"Oh, uh… I was gettin' a drink, remember? Ed happened ta be there and… heh…" she wrapped a paw around her counterpart's neck good-naturedly, "I got lost in conversation," the last part slipped out of her mouth accidently, causing Askari—who had already completely assumed the identity of his not-so-bright alias, complete with the drooling and gibbering—to briefly send her a lucid glance.

_Nice going._

"… Uh… huh…" Zamani stared at her niece dubiously, clearly pondering over what had gotten into her, as well as whether or not she should say anything more. The old hyena rubbed her chin thoughtfully, and decided to err on the side of caution and state the obvious.

"Ed's a mute, dearie."

"Well, a' course," Shenzi chuckled anxiously, attempting to cover her tracks, "it's just I know him so _well_ an' all… it _feels_ like we're havin' a conversation. Ya know?" Ed laughed obliviously and slapped her on the back, subtly endeavoring to prove her point… but spilling saliva all over her face in the process. "Ya see?"

Zamani raised her eyebrow silently, and sternly locked eyes with the matriarch for several moments. She could usually interpret her interlocutors' body language, and could easily decipher truth from lie. It was a skill set that had proved priceless in the midst of leading a horde of often rowdy animals. Notwithstanding the fact that things didn't quite add up completely. After several moments, however, she diffidently decided to shrug her shoulders and shake it off. There were more important things to worry about than her niece's oddly pitiable quirks.

"Mmmm… whateva' you say, Shenzi Marie."

Shenzi pressed her lips together, embarrassed. An awkward pause followed… until, of course, a familiar and brusque voice interrupted it.

"Hey, whatta you guys doin'? And wheredo ya think you've been, _Shenzi_?" Banzai demanded bluntly, approaching the trio angrily as they remained sitting complacently on the hillside. Shenzi rolled her eyes to herself, very irritated with the circumstances which Banzai had invariably caused. Unfortunately, he wasn't alone—she could vaguely see a hubbub gathering at the cavern. The hyenas had returned, and so their home had likewise relapsed into a period of somewhat dark, twisted vivaciousness.

"I was gettin' a _drink_, Banzai. Can I not have five seconds of peace? Or would ya rather have me die of thirst? Because with 'n attitude like yours, I'd gladly hand ya off to the next girl in line ta be leader."

Banzai only appeared indignant at this statement, and angry… but he relented, preferring to sheepishly change the subject instead of confronting her head on. Besides, she would win. She always won. And she was always, _always _right.

"Anyways," Shenzi continued, turning towards her aunt, "I made my decision, Zamani. Mufasa needs ta go, but I'm not gonna get rid a' Scar yet. He may prove valuable."

Zamani nodded, respecting her decision and leadership, though Banzai grumbled antipathetically and was clearly ready to argue over it.

"But… Shenzi… you said that—"

"—_No questions, Banzai_. I'm the matriarch: not you, and I make ta shots. In fact, since I don't wanna hear another word outta ya, I'm gonna have you carry a message for me. Tell Scar I wanna speak with him."

Banzai hated playing messenger, and she knew it. But, of course, there was nothing he could do; she had the final say in such matters… yet he still decided to sidestep the situation underhandedly with another subject change.

"Ah, man, why do _I_ have to do it? Why don't you make _Ed _do it? He never does anything around here! … And why're you even with him, anyways?"

"_None of ya business, Banzai! _Just _**do**_ it," she growled with frustration at him, her patience wearing thin. She paced past him, sensing a general disturbance back at the cave, which was still flooding over with discontent hyenas. "… I'm gonna go check on ta house. Come on, aunty."

Shenzi walked away in a huff, clearly having had enough of Banzai and the other hyenas for now. Askari still played dumb, his tongue absently lolling out of his mouth as he vapidly watched Shenzi depart. Zamani followed placidly, not minding much where her niece took her—at least she had come upon a decision, finally. What had taken her so long, anyways?

Banzai appeared to be the only fully-conscious hyena on the hillside, his gaze quietly following Shenzi as she walked by… so strong. So fierce. So… admirable. He blinked, his expression also one of hopelessness, but Shenzi didn't see it. She _never _saw it. Banzai tried so hard, and all he got was the brunt of her passionate disdain and animus. Her malicious vents and irate, sometimes thoughtless orders. Sometimes he felt like her abused personal servant. Bored and tired, he looked to Ed, who was still waiting there pointlessly.

He didn't know why, but he felt frustrated. Angry. Irritated. He hated being the messenger. _Hated _it. Banzai growled, the guttural sound expressing his apt sufferings and pent-up rage. Before he was even aware of it he had turned around, his snarl no longer directed at the emotionless and sterile air, but at a certain hyena in general. Ed. Who was hanging around him, clueless. Banzai clawed at the ground furiously... and so, with an outraged grunt, he let it all out, and spoke his mind to someone who—presumably—could never relay to anyone else what he had said.

"I dunno what it is with you. I dunno if you're planning, or watching, or thinking… heck, I don't even know if ya _understand _me… But if you're trying to get close to Shenz' by bein' all cutesy with her alone, then I suggest ya _stay away_. She's mine, mute boy. Any closer and I'll make ya wish you were never even born. And trust me when I say that—I'm more than ready to challenge you."

He finished his sentence gruffly, casting a final malicious look at the hyena who, until recently, had been a stranger. A_ stranger_. It wasn't fair. Banzai had never been fond of him, and yet he always tagged along, right next to Shenzi. Why? _Why? _It didn't make sense. It just didn't. The hyena stormed away, surrendering to the matriarch's will and reluctantly delivering her request. Besides, if he did not do so, she would certainly have a lot to say to him when he returned… Although, on second thought, Shenzi would probably have a special rant made just for him _anyways_.

Askari remained on the hill, barely watching as Banzai tromped off into the distance. As usual, no one had asked him where he was, or where he had been. He was meaningless to the pack, yet that kindled no feelings of unimportance within him. He would do his job for Shenzi, and that was all that mattered. Now completely alone, he momentarily disabled his guise, his yellow eagle-eyes staring with perfect clarity at the hyena cave. He smiled his usual, brutal grin, allowing his fangs to show openly as his eyes narrowed viciously. Askari rarely spoke—and this time, when he did so, it was preceded and accompanied by a dark, foreboding chuckle. His words were to no one in particular. At least, to no one but Banzai, who was already out of earshot and could not know that he had emitted a sound.

"**Heheheh**. _Challenge accepted_…"

The words which were muttered there quickly faded into the silent distance, and in another moment the hyena had disappeared completely without a single echo or trace…

* * *

><p>"Zazu… you're back <em>already<em>?"

An absent voice in the middle of the night woke Nyota, who had been lying patiently in the corner of the cavern. Her damaged shoulder was protectively nestled into her side, her dreary and tired eyes appreciating a well-deserved rest. She slept silently, the only disruption being when she quietly rolled over and attempted to get comfortable… which was difficult because of her injury, but nonetheless undertaken with as little excess noise as could be managed in order not to rouse the royal couple. Or, to be more accurate, royal ex-couple. Sarabi was still isolated in her own cave, presumably having cried herself to sleep again.

But Mufasa was already awake, apparently. He had been stirred into consciousness by a bird. A small, vaguely familiar, purple bird... whose feet were pitter-pattering across the stone of the floor.

"Zazu?" the avian queried confusedly, obviously unfamiliar with the name, before correcting him, "… no, this is Msaada."

"Msaada?" Mufasa may have been out of Nyota's view and masked by darkness, though she could still distinctly picture the confused, cocked-eyebrow look he doubtlessly must have given him. The young lioness watched the scene before her curiously, the claws on her unaffected front paw absently scrapping the ground.

_Msaada? _

The name was oddly reminiscent of a previous experience, though she could not pinpoint it exactly. Or could she…?

"Wait!" she cried out suddenly, a little louder than she had intended to. Yes, that was right. Msaada. He was Rafiki's bird. His messenger. Perhaps he had a message about Sarabi.

"Nyota? What is wrong?" Mufasa asked wearily, wondering why she had butted into something that was probably his business. Several lionesses in the den yawned confusedly, clearly wondering what that sudden yell was for.

"Oh… er…" she paused for a moment, sharing a mutual stare with the bird, who was still at the entrance of the darkness and clearly recognized her on sight. Nyota hated having to lie, and wasn't very good at it, but she didn't want to confront Mufasa about his ex-mate. She presumed that that would cause him too much distress. So she quickly thought up a false little story to relate to him.

"He's the majordomo for my brother, the king of the Desert Pride. We use him to communicate with each other because it's faster than using a runner," she chuckled nervously, inwardly cringing at her blatant falsehood. Her brother, as well as her entire family, was dead. Her sibling wasn't king of anything. Except, perhaps, his grave.

"Oh," Mufasa interjected flatly, swallowing her untruth. "Tell him I send my regards."

The king finished, possessing no further desire to interfere. Instead, he placed his head delicately on his paws and closed his eyes, clearly wishing to sleep. The other lionesses looked around, somewhat miffed about the interruption in their respite, though they decided not to prolong the issue any farther.

Msaada nodded, his silent way of commending her efforts, and flew outside. It was his signal for her to follow. She staggered to her paws, shuffling quietly across the ground on three able legs. It was slightly awkward, though she could manage. After all, she had walked from Rafiki's tree to Pride Rock by herself with no significant trouble.

Nyota moved onto the promontory, the blazing light of the waning crescent moon nearly blinding her as she faced it. It clearly lit up the messenger's face, revealing a relieved yet vaguely self-important countenance. He glanced around carefully, assuring himself that the others were out of earshot, and addressed her in a small whisper.

"The wise shaman Rafiki has a message for a Miss Nyota, concerning the Queen Sarabi. I was told to come here and report to you."

"A-alright," she stuttered, not knowing where to begin. Was something wrong with her? What could be done? What was happening? "Is it good news or bad?" she queried anxiously, afraid of his answer. The bird pressed his lips together ruefully, causing the lioness to tense up in worry.

"Bad. He has reached a diagnosis: she suffers from a severe case of a mood disorder known as manic depression. The depression was triggered by her grief, though genetics may have played a part in causing the full-fledged illness."

"Errr… okay," Nyota raised her eyebrow, not understanding what most of that entailed… only that it couldn't have been good. "So what does that mean?"

"Well, first and foremost, she often acts dejected. She retreats to be by herself, and is very listless and aloof. For much of the time she is also very irritable."

Nyota nodded her head in assent—yes, that was certainly an apt depiction.

"Unfortunately," Msaada continued, "that is only one facet of the disorder. Part of her sickness dictates severe changes in mood and behavior, as well as unpredictability—which, in her case, is amplified because of the severity. One moment she may be withdrawn and sad, the next she may be angered… or even manic, hence where the disease gets its name."

"Manic?"

"Yes, manic—suffering from bouts of mania," he explained before sighing, seeing the lioness' dumbfounded expression, "… she acts like she's very, very elated and excited."

Nyota shook her head. "No, that doesn't sound like her at all. Have you seen her lately?"

Msaada ruffled his feathers bluntly before contradicting.

"Look, Miss Nyota… this is not my first—how do you say this…?—er, rodeo. I have served the wise shaman for ten moons now: he knows what he is talking about."

"Alright," Nyota shrugged, relenting, though she still doubted him somewhat. How could she act happy a_nd_ depressed? It didn't even make sense… indeed, it was like a paradoxical untruth.

"In addition, Sarabi also appears to have a newfound predisposition towards violent acts and mindsets, which may prove to be a threat towards herself and others. You will need to keep a close eye on her—she may even foster suicidal thoughts or tendencies. Paranoia may also be present, though the wise Rafiki will need to speak to her again to make a more complete prognosis."

Nyota sighed, now very worried about her friend and leader. She knew from the very beginning that something was wrong, though she would never have predicted Sarabi's suffering to extend to this point.

"Is there anything that can be done?"

"Well, yes… but, for one thing, the only herbal remedies that would assist her recovery are located in a remote and dangerous locale of the northern jungles. It may be several days before the shaman and I have collected enough to make the concoction. In addition, she will have to willingly take the medication—most do not, unfortunately."

He shuffled his wingtips together anxiously, knowing of nothing else he could say to allay the frightening situation. Indeed, he had already mostly summarized the scenario, and in the end there was little they could do about any of it.

"And what happens if she doesn't? Will she recover?"

Msaada didn't bother to answer—his facial expression was more than enough to answer her question.

_No. If she doesn't, she will _not_ recover… and you can expect something bad to happen if she stays like this._

"Well, I'll see what I can do. I'll convince her," the lioness muttered with a hint of optimism, more to herself than to anyone else. She wasn't just going to let Sarabi suffer and perish. Indeed, she was ready to take the whole weight of the predicament across her broad, muscular shoulders. And so she bore her teeth slightly, determined… even as the sound of inconsolable crying cut through the still air from the isolated cave nearby: a sound that made Nyota herself grieve inwardly for her friend.

"May I wish you the best of luck in that endeavor, Miss Nyota. In the meantime, I must report back to the shaman. I shall see you soon."

Msaada flew off of the rock silently, effortlessly gliding above the supple savanna grass. His violet feathers shined with the glint of the moon, which was the only light penetrating through the dim and solemn night. His wing beats produced almost no sound, and it was only a matter of moments before his purple plumage was indistinguishable from the blackness surrounding him. The horizon itself was practically invisible under the deep shadows: even with her sharp eyes, there was little around her she could see other than the cave and Pride Rock. And so there were no sights, no smells, and no sounds…

Except for another lonely, singular cry in the midst of the darkness.

* * *

><p><em>Alright... *rubs chin thoughtfully* I don't think I've ever seen another fanfiction where one of the canon characters was determined to be bipolar. XD Anyone else? And it looks like Banzai finally came clean as well... hmmm... what's Askari going to do? And why did Shenzi change her mind and want to talk with Scar again? <em>

_R&R - leave your thoughts. See you all soon! :D_

_~Twin out (:_


	18. Fool Me Once, Shame on You

_**A/N:**_

_Hey there everyone. :p Another long update... well, you know how that is. Internet went out a week before I left Nevada, and now (as of Friday) I'm finally home after about two months! XD But yeah, this chapter took forever... the worst part is that school starts the day after tomorrow, and I still haven't done my AP summer homework yet. x.o So there might not be an update for a while (unless I work really fast and get one out tomorrow after said note-taking and probably staying up until 4 am tonight, but anyways...) Let's see... oh yes, Trampled... should be talking about that. _

_As much as I hate to say it, it seems like I really messed up last chapter. I've gotten several comments on that last part, and I honestly don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it. XD Nerd moment, I suppose. But alas! I'll still venture forth, and try to make the best of it. Things heat up soon, I promise. :p Reviews._

**_Forever Nocturnal: _**_Yay, you were the first to review! XD Glad you liked it... and we'll see what happens with Sarabi and Nyota. They might be in for a rough time._

**_Hognusing: _**_Yay, a new reviewer! XD And of course you can have a cookie. :p Here you go. *hands one* I hope you keep reading, and thanks for the compliment. (: _

**_Chris Boyce: _**_Thank you so much for your help. :) I see what you mean. I'm trying to think these things through a little better, but sometimes it's a bit difficult with so much happening at once and a lot of ideas to convey. On this one I took my time and planned ahead. Maybe I rushed or something last chapter... I don't know, nor do I really remember because it was nearly a month ago. :/_

**_mom: _**_Ahhh, glad you liked it. XD Personally, Chapter 16 was one of the funner ones to write. :p_

**_Reldor: _**_Yes, of course! We must! :o *hands a GPS* And you're really enjoying this, aren't you...? XD lol Have another slice. :D It's free, I promise._

**_IronicSnap: _**_Yeah, although Banzai kind of deserves it, doesn't he? :p And you're right on that one... I've used gratuitous a lot in these last chapters. x.x I don't know why. _

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Noooo, don't ditch it. I want to read it. D: lol And purple is one of my favorite colors too. :p Glad you like Msaada. Personally, before this fic, I never thought of ShenzixEd as realistic. But it might work here since he's not a total idiot. XD_

**_Mykklaw: _**_Hi there! :D Glad to see you've been reading and favoriting my work, and that you like this story. :p It's quite nice to find another Scar fan like me! *high-five* And you'll just have to keep reading and see what happens. ;)_

* * *

><p>In the verge of the Outlands, all was chronically blank—little more than a drab slate wiped clean. Rocks littered the ground in all visible directions, and even the slightest deviation from this was sorely visible from afar. However, there were few such deviations: for the most part, the ground was a solid, unmarred shade of blue-grey, congruous with the hue of the hulking boulders. There were few signs of life, and hence there was almost no noise. The only exception to this rule was the pair of lions nestled on the precipitous ledge of an alcove. A single blotch of brown and a tawny stain in the midst of a land devoid of such colors. It was doubtless that they could be spotted from far away, although this didn't worry them. To be seen inherently implied that there was actually someone there to watch them. Which there wasn't. And so it was a moot and rather extraneous set of circumstances to contemplate.<p>

"Well, Zira," Scar attempted to break the stifling silence which naturally enveloped the rocks like a smothering blanket. "Tell me more about yourself." It was a start, at least…

There was a pause, and the lion momentarily proceeded to bend his head down and finish grooming away the messy, blood-caked fur on his paw. Zira perked up slightly, deigning to cease her nap and open one of her piercing red eyes to study him. He appeared not to notice her do so—his paw seemed to consume all of his attention.

"Me?" The lioness scoffed. "There's not much to tell, really."

"So you will proceed to say nothing, because you assume that I wouldn't be in the slightest bit interested?" He glowered at her sarcastically. "Really, that only piques my curiosity on the subject."

"I don't see why it matters," she quipped, "as it makes no difference one way or the other."

"If it makes no difference, then you should possess no desire to defer your answer."

Zira growled flatly, shaking her head in submission. "Fine. Ask away."

Scar curled his lip slightly, pondering what exactly he should say to her. Alas, Zira was not one of those lionesses whose intentions could be deciphered at a mere glance. She was a bit… trickier, and so he had to be careful about what he did when speaking with her. Before their first encounter a few days prior, he had never noticed her before. Naturally, this planted a plethora of unanswered questions in his mind. Was she a rogue? A born Pridelander? Who were her parents? Why was she here?

"What was your childhood like?" he queried somewhat brusquely, experimenting… He was not quite sure about where this would lead. It was merely a start. Though not a particularly helpful one, it was still the best he could come up with at that moment.

"Let's see… I had a mother. And a father. I also had a baby brother, but he died. We lived in a land to the east, and it was very… interesting." The living enigma finished with as little information as could possibly be supplied. Scar rolled his eyes inwardly, somewhat frustrated over her continuous habit of answering with so few words. Indeed, had he—in lieu of the gazelle carcass—been given an ort of meat for every word she uttered, he would still be starving. While it was fortunate that she wasn't overly talkative and bubbly, as such lionesses annoyed him, he still wished that she would elucidate when he himself was talking to her. But she didn't. She refused to say practically anything.

"Well?"

"'Well' what?"

"_Well_, where's the rest? Did anything else happen?" he pressed irritably. Zira paused for a moment, looking thoughtful.

"… Hmmm… well… no. No, not really."

Scar sighed to himself and considered giving up. This was a lost cause.

"And what happened to your brother? How did he die?"

"Sickness," she answered, resting her head back down on her paws indifferently. But, to his surprise, she continued… "His name was Uongo, and he looked a little bit like you. He got sick when the dry season came, and we took him to the shaman, but the fever got to him before the medicine did. He succumbed after ninety-six days of life."

"Interesting." Scar rapped his claws across the ground, actually quite bored, but did not want to discourage her from speaking. Perhaps he would eventually solve this… puzzle. "Very interesting."

"Yeah, he was something, alright… Mischeivous. Sly. Proud. Just like you…" she stared at him longingly, causing him to shift slightly in discomfort and search for a convenient moment to instigate a subject change.

"A shame he lived such a short life, then… But tell me, where was this place you lived? To the east, in the desert…?"

"No, not in the desert," she shook her head in the negative, "but beyond the desert. It was a savanna, rather like here. Mother was a rogue. Father was, well… another rogue… in a way. He lived closely with some of his brothers and sisters. Not a pride at the time. Mother finally joined them as his mate, and they made it an official pride—she was the queen, of course… we called our territory the River Turf, because we were known for the large river that flowed thereabouts. Strangely enough, each of them has this marking in between their ears…"

Zira dipped her head slightly, parting the scruffy tuft of hair which covered the crest of fur over the narrow area between her ears. Surely enough, under her pelt, there was a large _stripe _running from her forehead to the nape of her neck. Scar had never noticed it before.

"So you were a rogue… and a princess?"

"Yes," she rasped somewhat sheepishly, "but it seems like a long time ago. I barely even remember. I've lived in the Pridelands most of my life; Mufasa accepted me into his pride when I was still a cub."

"Mmmm, yes… Mufasa…" Scar pondered idly, not sure what else to say to that. He only lowered his head and rested it on the ground, still studying her intently. Finally he turned away, prepared to sprawl out across the ground and rest quietly, unperturbed…

"_On my word! What is that?_"

Scar jumped slightly, not expecting such an outburst on her part. He quickly whirled around and eyed her cautiously, his claws flexing as he assumed a defensive posture. Zira only moved closer, either oblivious or unconcerned over his sudden cautiousness… She lifted up her paw slowly, intending to place it on the back of his leg.

"What are you doing? Don't touch that," he flinched, drawing his limb away from her apprehensively.

"Did one of those hyenas… _bite you?_" The lioness gently tapped the back of his calf, causing a hot shot of pain to surge through it. He tensed up with a growl, not quite sure what she was doing…

"Yes, yes… definitely a bite mark. When did this happen, Scar?"

"That's none of your concern," he rebutted, not quite sure what she was referring t—

Oh, right. The bite mark Banzai had given him on the cliff. He'd almost forgotten about it. The uncomfortable mixture of hunger, thirst, and boredom he had experienced on that alcove had clearly rendered his leg wound as the least of his worries. But with his appetite sated and some of his boredom quelled, perhaps he should take another look at it, lest the state of it worsen.

Zira approached it again, ignoring the slight bristling of his fur as he bared his fangs.

"Hush," she reproached assertively, unable to keep the slight note of irritation out of her voice, before taking a moment and calming herself… "hush, dear. If I had the intention of harming you, I would have done so." She attempted to placate him somewhat, and motioned for him to lie down across the rock. Although still quite wary, he flopped down onto his side… and proceeded to carefully extend the afflicted limb.

The lioness also stretched herself across the platform, allowing herself to get comfortable… she yawned placidly, clearly tired, before briefly arching her back and flexing her clawed digits. Zira curled up near Scar under the setting sun, the last rays warming her fur as she kneaded her claws into the rock absently. And then, crawling closer to the lion accompanying her, she commenced executing a very strange action…

"Now hold still," she chirped happily, letting her tongue roll soundlessly out of her mouth.

"What are you doing?" The lion lurched forwards, oddly curious… strangely enough, Zira was tenderly drawing her warm, saliva-dripping muscle across the blood-caked appendage, partially soothing the burning pain it entailed in the process.

"What does it look like? I'm nursing your wounds." The lioness smiled warmly in his direction, gesturing for him to relax and allow her to do so. But alas, to Scar it was awkward, and uncomfortable…

"Why?" he narrowed his eyes dubiously, "I am perfectly capable of doing so myself."

"Yes, but maybe I want to take care of it for you…" she bent down and gently licked him a second time, unaware of his aversion to it. "Come on, Scar. Don't tell me you've never had anyone else care for you like this. I mean, someone must have, right? Obviously not your brother… perhaps a mother?"

Scar felt a sharp, almost physical prick in his chest at the mention of Uru, his mother. A stab of sorrow… which quickly and inevitably turned into other, less pleasant emotions.

"No," he snapped, withdrawing his leg in discomfort, "why? Should I have?"

"I don't know," she lifted her head, looking at him with visible dismay. "Either way… I don't want that to get infected." The lioness again made a move to approach him, though he shifted away from her and growled irritably.

"I don't care. Leave me be." The lion rotated himself until his back was facing her, his tail lashing subtly to accompany his frustration towards her. Zira sighed to herself, realizing she had ruined the moment, and also looked towards the opposite direction to study the sunset. Warmth trickled into their fur until the alcove had finally and completely retreated into cool, comforting shade: a nice change from the hot and barren desert day. She sat in the stiffening silence, thinking idly.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

His only response was a brusque grunt. A pause followed, and Zira sighed hopelessly. The lioness pressed her lips together, not intending to say anymore, but her features quickly hardened as a soft breeze ruffled the air.

"Say, do you smell that?"

"Smell _what_?" He rolled his eyes, not able to smell _anything _over the small slab of wildebeest which was still there, and slowly rotting. The flies were swarming around it, often landing on the lion nearby and sending a prickle of irritation through him each time. He batted at them at his paws and tail, but it was useless.

Zira didn't reply—she only stuck out her neck, with the purpose of indentifying whichever smell had been agitating her. In a moment she stood up, somewhat concerned, and shoved the piece of wildebeest back under the rock… as well as the remnants and bones of the gazelle which had already been eaten.

"It's Banzai." She growled quietly, before focusing on the drab, nondescript stones in front of them. "Ick, he sure does _smell_… Does he not take baths?"

"Quiet," Scar proceeded to ignore her, and cleared his throat quietly. "There is no use in attempting to hide from our sight—we know you're here. Withdraw immediately."

"Yeah!" Zira shouted, clearly emboldened… and apparently attempting to please Scar in some offhanded way, "Get over here! I dare you, you disgusting piece of filth!" The lioness made a move to approach him, unafraid and overconfident.

"_Hush_!" The lion snarled and batted at her lightly with his paws, cutting her off and advancing towards the spot she had been at. Irritated, he began tapping the ground ominously with his claws… "hush, Zira. Patience… Allow me to resolve the situation." A scowl quickly formed on his face—a perfect and clear result of his frustration towards Banzai and the hyena's species in general.

Banzai finally seemed to understand their message, and ambled out from behind one of the boulders. His face was both indignant and distantly angry; the rocks had cut into the pads of his paws, and it was clear that he had been walking for hours.

"What are you doing here? I paid my dues—now leave me be. I have no desire to hear your petty qualms."

"Heh," Banzai scoffed, "well, _sorry _to waste your time, ex-princey… You lions always think you're so great. Whaddya gonna do to me? Kill me?"

Zira shot a glance at Scar. "I've got half a mind to… you're alone, aren't you? Bad choice…"

"_Cool it, _chica. I left in a hurry. I'm only here to tell Scar here that Shenzi wants to talk to him."

Scar raised an eyebrow at this. Hyenas weren't the sharpest animals in the savanna, but this… Something didn't seem right… No, this didn't seem right at all. Why the sudden change in tune?

"Well, now isn't that surprising, hmm? I'm speechless…" he flicked his tail, voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you're attempting to fool me, then know that I have _no patience _for liars…" he crouched down slightly and approached the single hyena, fangs bared threateningly.

"Hey, I dunno why either, exactly." Banzai backed up a step and remained on another rock, now feeling somewhat threatened. "Though I think it's another plan for you to take the throne, or somethin'… I gotta get you back there soon, 'cause _Shenzi_'ll have my hide if I don't." He spat the word 'Shenzi' out with disgust, clearly irritated about something.

Zira perked up slightly. "Well, if it's to take the throne… that _is _what you always wanted, is it not?"

"Mmm…" was his only answer. The lion began rubbing his chin with a paw, thinking this over. While he _had _wanted to take the kingdom, it wasn't something he was very concerned with at the present moment. Surviving was.

"And how do I know that there isn't already a team of hyenas waiting just on the other side of those boulders?" he motioned towards a nearby rock, "and how do I know you won't simply kill me?"

"Hey, if Shenzi wanted you dead, you'd know it."

Sad as it was to say, he did have a point. Trickery wasn't exactly the hyenas' forte… the matriarch probably wouldn't have sent Banzai either, as he had failed miserably _last time_. It was strange, talking to the same hyena who had nearly killed him only a few days prior.

"Hey, I know! I'll go with you!" Zira suddenly interjected from beside Scar, advancing forwards towards the hyena. "That way no one will hurt you." She smiled almost innocently at the lion.

"No," Scar instinctively shot back a little too quickly, the young lioness somehow reminding him of a similar situation: a cub he had once known, but long since forgotten… Flustered by Zira's apparent enthusiasm, he simply used the first thing that came to mind. "Heheh, no. Just… stay on this rock. Wouldn't want us to end up in another mess with the hyenas."

Zira was clearly nonplussed.

"But what if… why… why wouldn't you—?"

"_Heya_, I think cachorro here is right for once. This'd be best done _alone_. If she wanted you to come, she would have asked." The hyena resumed with his habit of interrupting, not casting the lioness a second glance as he turned to Scar impatiently.

"N-no… You aren't going without me." The lioness took another step towards them, causing Scar to inwardly grimace. He fixed his stare on her, interlocked teeth vaguely resembling a half-hearted smile.

"Oh, but Zira… it's a long walk, as you know."

"And?"

"And, er... you could better use that time _hunting_, instead of prowling around the savanna. Why, that'd be simply dreadful, would it not?" He waved his paw dismissively, hoping that Zira would finally understand his equivocating gestures.

"Speaking of hunting," the hyena licked his lips slightly, "I smell wildebeest…"

"I caught that!" Zira ousted the words with no hint of subtlety, her normally calm demeanor turning desperate as she attempted to do whatever she could to protect Scar, who only elbowed her sharply in response. Alas, as much potential use as she had, she was still quite inexperienced. For him, however… well, the pantry caper was only one of many similar situations he had fallen into. The lion had stolen food before. Many, _many _times. More than he would have liked.

"Hmm-hm-hm," he chuckled softly, "Zira is a very good huntress for her age. She helped me catch what we gave to you. _Didn't you, _Zira?" He whipped her haunch silently with his tail, quickly expelling the brief look of confusion she had displayed on her face.

"Oh… yes."

"Eh, okay… whatever," Banzai shrugged casually, apparently disinterested and not holding any particular suspicions. "Come on, _Scar_." The hyena finally retreated, clearly miffed…

"Roar if you need me, love," Zira's tail briefly intertwined with his, causing him to send her an uncomfortable, half-hearted faux-smile. "When this is over, we'll meet by that tree we passed on the way over."

"Which tree?"

"You know, that one with the roots you nearly tripped on? Over by the river?"

"Right," he grinned sheepishly, half expecting her to follow impetuously as he trailed behind the hyena's footsteps. But she didn't. She only stayed planted there with a smile on her face, an air of obedience surrounding her as she watched him leave.

Scar rolled his eyes slightly. It seemed like this lioness would do _anything _for him, and he didn't even know her. It was ridiculous. Over-the-top. Strangely unsettling… and he didn't like it. At all.

* * *

><p><em>If you liked it, review and tell me what you thought about it. :) Or just fave it if you're too lazy - I understand. XD lol *pops a faux-champagne bottle* Anyone want some? Trampled's six months old now - I can't believe it. :D I'd say this story's about a quarter to a third of the way done at this point... hopefully I can keep this fic together that long, unlike how Instigation is turning out... X.x Anyways, hope you all keep reading! :D And if you haven't already, check out my new fic, Accidental Love. :p Peace~<em>

_-Twin out ;)_


	19. The Shaman's Gone Bananas

_**A/N: **Geez, that took a while. x.x Although I suppose I wrote most of the last scene in 1-2 hours, so that's good. :D Alas, this story looks like it's going to be waaaay longer than I thought... o.o [ to be honest, I didn't think it'd top 30k words when I started. Theory disproven. XD ] Review time._

**_Mykklaw: _**_Yeah, you can have some... although it's fake for obvious reasons (I'm not old enough :p). I can't believe this story's almost seven months old already... How time flies. xD *clinks glass and returns high-five*_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Yeah, I was there for about nine weeks - pretty much all of my summer. XD And I'm glad you liked that scene... although it's kind of strange how everyone keeps pointing out that one line. lol Had no idea about the phrase - I've only heard it a few times, and didn't remember which way it went. I don't feel like changing the chapter title right now though. x.x And I believe I've already implored you to continue on with Brother. This fic is getting long, but that's not stopping me. :p_

**_mom: _**_And... there's that line again. XD lol But thank you; glad you liked it. :D_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Heheh... yeah, I remember. x) lol You pointed that out in Exile, only that time and the first case you just mentioned were more or less by accident and I conveniently put them in there when I realized it. But the 'stay on this rock' scene was supposed to be, as you astutely thought, a reference to Simba and Scar in the movie. lol_

_**Reldor: **I know, right? XD And she's not even as crazy as she is in the movie, mostly because of the lack of Scar's death so far in this fic. So this is the young, love-struck, actually-mildly-sane Zira. I like to think Bruce Banner vs. The Incredible Hulk. lol_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Glad you liked that part of it - the part on Zira was actually all last minute (although I suppose many of my best scenes are so far x.x). You'll read a little more on Shenzi this chapter. (:_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>The night in the savanna was still and peaceful, almost like any other night. There was no commotion, no animals rushing through the thick stalks of grass… no, to the outside eye, everything was just the way it should have been. In the midst of the turmoil and conflict, life still continued onward.<p>

The shaman, however, could see more than the average observer could. These late nights consisted of many of his conscious moments as, instead of sleeping, he would often stay up and do whatever he hadn't had time to complete during the day. Checking his medicine stash, mixing more paint for the tree, or simply studying the vast expanse of savanna surrounding him…

He lifted his wizened hand towards the sky, upper lip curling as he delicately sniffed the air… Alas, something was off. Something in the pressure of the air, a delicate change in the atmosphere that even he, with all of his experience, could barely detect…

"Mmm, dere's a drought coming," he concluded simply, swinging off his favorite branch in the canopy and quickly navigating the maze of twisting limbs which constituted the tree's foliage. He sat abut to one of the taller, straighter branches, and carefully studied the predictions of the weather patterns he had been making lately.

The mandrill absently grabbed a half-coconut shell nearby, dipping his hand into the baby blue powder contained therein. Most of his predictions were actually quite accurate, and so it was with dismay that he drew a few raindrops on the tree… and then smeared them hopelessly. The shaman couldn't help but let out a sigh; if there was a drought on the way, then he wasn't sure whether or not the kingdom would be able to handle it.

Perhaps the only hopeful thing he had to think about was the fact that Mufasa was still in charge—he had successfully dealt with tougher challenges before. But even that was uncertain. The mandrill again turned towards another one of the branches, looking at his own depictions of recent events: the drawing of Simba, which was smudged and dead; the drawing of Mufasa and Sarabi together, which was also smeared and separated; the drawing of the hyena pack, vaguely ominous and traitorous in its nature… and the drawing of Scar, which had been accented with black, representing betrayal.

"_Curses on you_," he muttered softly, a hint of rare anger in his voice. Alas, while that phrase was used often—sometimes even lightly—by other savanna inhabitants, he had, as a shaman, been taught never to use it. But how could he not? That single lion was practically tearing apart the kingdom with his greed, his lust for power… And there didn't seem to be anything they could do about it. He was still alive. Whatever was happening, whatever solution or form of retribution—or complete lack thereof—Mufasa was trying to impose… well, it wasn't working.

The mandrill looked up, at events in the past. Long ago, everything had been peaceful. Everything had been calm, like a pond before a wave of ripples. There were happy little scenes of Mufasa playing with his brother, of Ahadi and Uru ruling over the kingdom, of hyenas and jackals and leopards running through the thickets… Where had it gone wrong?

His gaze moved down somewhat, towards the faded and blurred drawing of a then recently-deceased Uru… followed by the similarly-depicted figure of Ahadi. Then there was the hyenas' exile. A picture of a disgruntled Taka retreating off into the savanna. Somewhere around there, things had gone horribly awry.

A sudden gust of wind rustled the leaves and limbs, ruffling his fur and cooling the warm night somewhat. As it intensified, the varied containers, fruits, and shells hanging by the canopy began to move and knock together, which—alongside the whoosh of the wind itself—created a sudden burst of cacophony in the otherwise silent night. The moon, still quite luxuriant and nearly at half-wane, suddenly retreated behind the mask of clouds that was practically omnipresent at nights like these, leaving him covered and surrounded by darkness.

The mandrill fumbled about in the tree, several windblown leaves assailing him as he tried to find his footing. He shook his head wildly, trying to clear his vision, and eventually reached for his staff…

Something went wrong. It was too dark, and the noise was too distracting. Indeed, everything was simply too… chaotic. The shaman's arm accidently collided with one of the precariously-perched containers, causing it—along with another alongside it—to fall from one of the nooks of the tree and smash open.

The shaman stamped his foot impatiently on the tree bark, suddenly irritated. Those pigments had taken him and Msaada _days _to gather. He bent over and called for his bird, intent on cleaning up the mess. As expected, his assistant promptly appeared from his roost on one of the nearby limbs and settled down on the base of the sprawling branches.

"Yes, wise shaman?"

"Ah, Msaada… I spilled some of de paints we gathered last moon"—at his mention of the word 'moon', the large celestial orb coincidentally appeared from behind the clouds and briefly illuminated the whole scene—"could you help me?" He asked quietly, stooping over the floor of his home and attempting to reorganize the disarrayed and broken containers.

Several moments passed.

"Msaada?" the mandrill pressed, waiting as the bird stared at another branch and did nothing… "_Msaada?_"

"Oh," the bird fluffed his feathers out perkily, "I apologize, wise shaman… but it appears as though some of the paint has covered your drawings."

Rafiki immediately straightened up, casting a glance at the place where he had been looking only moments before. And then he froze.

For those few moments, he could see the whole sight under the light of the moon. The bark, once filled with neat drawings, had been partially covered over by a large, sanguine-shaded smattering of pigment. A dark, crimson red—the same hue he had used for Mufasa's mane. The same he had used for… blood. It covered nearly everything in its vicinity: the hyena pack, Simba, Scar, Mufasa, Ahadi, Uru… all of them were washed with it. Saturated with it. He took a step back, and gazed higher still. Many of the scenes of recent history were obscured by the opaque paint, save for one… The depiction of the two young cubs and the panther, near where the other coconut shell had broken open: the coconut shell holding his deep, tar-black pigment, which was now spread out over the drawing and partially mixed with the red. Red for blood, black for betrayal. Red for Mufasa's mane, black for Scar's. Red and black for the two cubs there that day. And for a moment everything was clear.

_There_. Something had happened there. That was when all of it started, when the two brothers had separated. What exactly had taken place on that day, no one had known. All Rafiki remembered was caring for the two lions' wounds afterwards. But something bad had happened, and something bad was_ going_ to happen. Soon.

He immediately knew it to be a premonition, but the vision abruptly disappeared. Indeed, the entire tree quickly faded to black as the absence of the moon caused the sky to relapse into darkness...

* * *

><p>"Look Shenzi, I've toldcha once… but I'm gonna tell ya again: we've gotta be bold and we've—"<p>

"—_gotta take ta Pridelands back_. Yeah, auntie, I know. Ya keep tellin' me that," Shenzi leaned across the boulder in the middle of the hyena cave, partially frustrated and partially stressed. Zamani only sat there silently, nonplussed and rueful, as her niece rubbed her forehead irritably.

"C'mon Zamani, why's this all so danged important? We kill Mufasa in whatever way we can and end our exile—we don't need ta rule ta Pridelands." The younger hyena clawed the rock absently with a distracted sigh. Alas, this was all so superfluous… so needlessly complicated. But her aunt, as always, was increasingly dogmatic.

"Ya don't understand any of this, niecey…"

"You're right—I don't. Explain it, if ya would."

Zamani twiddled her paws together absentmindedly. "Oh, I've told ya the story, dearie. You were jus' a pup at the time… but Ahadi passed some harsh hunting laws. Very harsh. We were just tryin' ta feed ourselves! But he exiled us because _one_ 'a us broke it… so ya see, niecey? We gotta get… _retribution_…"

"On Mufasa?"

"_Yes_," she smiled and growled maliciously, rapping her claws against the rock. Shenzi only sat there, still confused…

"Why? What'd he do?"

Zamani huffed, face falling as she wallowed in her frustration. "Nothin', niecey. Jus'… never ya mind I said anything. It's very important that we do this… do ya trust me?"

"Mmmm… yeah… I s'pose you're right," Shenzi shrugged with diffidence, clearly not very enthused about any facet of the conversation. None of it made sense… Maybe she was the only one. But at least she had another hyena she could ask later... for, at that very minute, Ed entered the cave, his tongue hanging out and his head bobbing randomly as he sidled up to Shenzi and sat down beside her. The seemingly dumb hyena remained there, drool pooling on the edge of his mouth and dripping onto the rock.

"Whaddya doin' here, ya mangy furball? Get back ta what ya are supposed ta be doin'!"

"_Hush_, auntie…" she patted Ed lightly on his shoulder, "he can stay here if he wants ta. Can'tcha, Ed?"

The third hyena nodded his head happily, splattering Zamani with a generous amount of saliva. She only closed her eyes and cringed slightly, her expression betraying impatience.

"Well, whateva'… we can talk about this later. You two have fun," she finished bluntly, turning around and walking away in a huff. Shenzi only scratched her head and exchanged a glance with Ed; now that she thought about it, her aunt always acted rather… touchy… when that subject was brought up. Maybe she was just stressed, rather like she was.

"Now _that _sounded much like an invitation to me…" Askari whispered after several silent moments, keeping his voice low as a precaution. But it was late at night, and most of the hyenas were asleep in their quarters past the tunnels. There was little risk in talking to him at this hour, and so it was that she gave him a playful nudge with her elbow.

"Hmmpt, she has no idea, does she? About… us? This?"

"No, and she never will," he reassuringly placed her paw gently on hers, before taking a long and rather luxuriant sniff of the air. "Hmm, looks like Banzai's here. So, are you finally going to tell your lover just how much he means to you?" he nudged her back with a little more force, causing her to roll her eyes subtly.

"How many times must I tell ya, Askari? I don't like him."

"Right…"

"C'mon… Askari? … _Askari!_"

The hyena by that name only gibbered and laughed nonsensically, quickly and seamlessly relapsing into the identity of his stupid counterpart as Banzai walked in, his features cross and somewhat confused. The scent of lion was on him, and it was certain that there was one not far behind…

"Whaddya doin', Shenz', talkin' to a mute? Have ya _lost it_?" he queried impatiently, making his way to the rock and focusing intently on Ed. "An' who's Askari?"

"No one," she said defensively, turning her head away and wishing he hadn't shown up at such a time. Yet no matter what she did, he was always there, always watching her impetuously…

"Say, I never asked ya…" she finally and reluctantly refocused on him as the scent of lion grew stronger… "before ya left, did ya get any messages from anyone? What's ta word from the Pridelands? I'm guessin' ya got Scar to come with ya."

Banzai's eyes narrowed slightly, his suspicion growing as he saw their paws still intertwined. Of course, it could have simply been one of Ed's stupid little quirks. Maybe Shenzi didn't notice. But no… _something _was going on. He knew it.

His memory was fresh. He remembered the bird—Mufasa's—coming to the cave with a message for Shenzi.

She was away. It was a statement from the lion king, a symbol of his steadfastness in his choices. He said that they were exiled, and that they would pay for their crimes. What those crimes were, he didn't know… but surely Zamani must have known. Maybe Shenzi would as well. Perhaps it was even important. It could affect the entire decision of the pack…

"No, there wasn't any," he lied smoothly, his brief feelings of spite ignoring the undertones of logic and sense in his mind. The female only cocked a brow—as much as he was a buffoon at times, she had no real reason to suspect him of anything. "And yeah, I did," he added laconically as an afterthought.

It, however, was not necessary… for, at that moment, a very tense and bristling Scar appeared at the entrance of the cave. Shenzi smirked slightly, setting the paw which had been resting on top of Ed's onto the rock and rapping her claws ominously.

"See, here he is. Told-ja I got him."

"Yeah, mhmm," she responded simply, her patience wearing thin, "couldcha leave us, please, Banzai? We can handle this."

"A-Alright," he responded, nonplussed, before turning around. "Come on, Ed. Shenzi wants to be _alone_."

Ed briefly raised his eyebrow, a vague note of cocky condescension in his countenance… a hint so vague that even Shenzi barely noticed, despite the fact that she was watching him intently.

"No… just _you_, Banzai. _Out_," she finally growled, her attention shifting to Scar as the disgruntled hyena exited. Banzai relented and left almost silently, only muttering a few angry words as he departed… reminding himself not to look behind at the two adjacent hyenas.

"_¿Me necesitas que salga? Pues, está bien. Adiós, _Shenzi_."_

Shenzi barely even paid attention to him—what he did at this point was of little concern. He had done his job, and that was all that was required of him at the moment. Her focus shifted from the irritated hyena and towards the lion who was just as angry… if not provoked to an even greater degree.

"What is it?" He finally broke the silence with a condescendingly threatening growl. "I've paid my dues; what more could you _possibly_ require of me?"

A moment of silence passed. Askari flashed the lion a rather vicious smile… which was only backed up by Shenzi's randomly-instigated fit of chuckling—an austere, almost calming susurration which quickly reverberated throughout the cavern.

"You find this amusing?" Scar flashed his fangs tetchily, patience dissolving into a mixture of his other, much more prominent emotions… most notably a vague sense of offense and disdain.

"Hehehe… nah. It's jus' that… well, some things neva' change, do they? You're always the same, aren'tcha? Always so stubborn. Stubborn… to a fault. Hm-hm-hm…"

"Maybe I would find this more amusing if you would _explain all of this to me!" _He finally snapped, leaping quickly across the expanse of the cave with his best attempt at an intimidating roar. In a moment he had reached the boulder, and was about to take a thoughtless swipe at the matriarch.

Askari's reaction was immediate. He leapt in between the two bodies, knocking Scar's paw away with a single, deft move. The lion recoiled, still snarling and bristling, but was silenced as the whole weight of the bulky, muscular hyena leapt at him. Without acutely possessing any idea as to what happened, Scar found himself pinned to the ground, several claw marks on his chest and a clawed paw prickling at the skin on his throat.

"Try that again and you're dead."

Scar looked around, suddenly weary… and speechless. This wasn't plausible at all. Ed… talking? No. That wasn't right.

"_Ed_…" she snapped authoritatively, before sending the large hyena an eerie, ominous grin. "C'mon…"

Askari obediently removed his paw from his adversary, casting a quick look around before vapidly returning to stand by Shenzi's side. The female hyena did nothing to acknowledge him, and only tapped the rock with her claws, as if distracted.

"You see…" she began absently, still staring at the marks her claws were etching into the boulder, "this isn't just a question of ta meat, Scar. Yeah, ya paid your dues—late—but ya know, there's a bit more ta it than that. There are otha', more important promises ya made us. Ya see, we've always had a common goal: get rid a' Mufasa. You promised us an alliance yourself, and now ya purposefully dishonor our agreement… do ya remember that day?"

"_The day I got my scar_," he interrupted curtly, "honestly, Shenzi, must you be so inane? You act as though I would forget that cursed chapter of my life."

"Like it or not, Scar, ya still owe us." She finished simply, fixing him with an oddly calm glance. Alas, she was tired of him. Tired of being condescended. The matriarch smiled again, her fangs briefly showing through her lips at the thought of… retribution. Punishment.

"What is it this time? What else must you _take _from me? Why do you not just take my life—why play these noxious games?" He flattened his ears, regretting the very day he crossed their path… the very day she approached him, a mere glimmer of hope in the midst of the chaos and turmoil.

"'Cause ya have potential… and so I give ya one last chance ta go through with this: at a price, 'a course." She smirked briefly, a pair of embers burning in her eyes as she motioned emphatically towards the boulder.

"Set'cha paw there."

Scar briefly shot her a questioning glance, but at Askari's insistent growl he reluctantly submitted to her will, allowing his limb to lie over the smooth—though slightly marred—surface of the boulder. Shenzi gazed at it for a long time, as if mesmerized… her own paw drifted over the boulder, slowly making its way towards him.

The lion suddenly flinched as she touched him with an extraordinarily delicate, soft touch. Her digits glided soundlessly over his, the hyena's claws idly tapping the dark and disheveled, though still somewhat handsome, fur. For a while she merely studied it intently, giving each of his fingers a squeeze in order to showcase the well-maintained, finely-sharpened claws protruding from them.

"Ya know, I bet ya don't take this seriously, do ya?" She paused momentarily and looked at his claws again, the confused lion still not quite understanding her drift. Shenzi continued.

"I didn't think so. I betcha think you can mess around with ta hyenas, hmm? Ya play with fire without gettin' burned, ya go off and get the girl. We give ya a second chance an' all. Why, you can do whateva you want, cant'cha? I'm not stoppin' ya."

At that moment, Askari sidled up to the lion's right side, a little too close for comfort. He again flashed his trademark, brutal grin, his eyes avariciously studying the large paw of the lion on the boulder. After a while, he added his own mutilated appendage, ominously tapping all four of his digits on the stone. Something about it immediately caught Scar's eye… something about it was wrong.

"You still gotta deal with ta consequences, Scar. Ya can only cheat death for so long…"

Scar's eyes were still transfixed on the male hyena's paw, his eyes tracking the movement of his fingers as he counted them…

One. Two. Three. … Four.

Four. There was only four—there should have been five. There was only a stump there. What happened? How did he lose it? What accident could have taken place, an accident which would leave him with a strangely unsettling disfiguration like tha—

"And it's only a matter of time before ya get _burned!_" Shenzi yelled with an uncharacteristic lack of calmness and firmly gripped his foot, causing Scar to back up a step in surprise… or, at least, he tried to back up a step in surprise. Askari had already predicted this and was standing in his way, cutting off his escape and trapping him there. For one single moment, he held up his paw and, with a gentle _tsk _of his tongue, slowly wagged his finger at him.

Scar froze, finally understanding. His eyes widened in fear, and he was briefly unable to do anything… even as Askari slammed into him, pinning his whole arm to the rock.

"GET HIM, SHENZI! COME ON!"

The former soldier again plowed into him, trying to pin him to the rock by the nape of the neck. Scar could hardly see what was happening—he could only feel the sharp, unforgiving claws… the merciless attacks from all sides as the well-coordinated hyenas placed him into a powerless position.

"N-no! No, please! NO! It wasn't my fault! It was _Zira's! _Blame her!" he howled helplessly, still trying to wriggle out of the hyena's grasp and throw them off of him. The lion fretted and thrashed, kicking and struggling in a futile attempt to escape… but it was too late. He fought until he had completely exhausted himself, and by the end of it he could hardly make anything out anymore. Half of his vision was obscured by the boulder he was now being shoved into, and Scar could only hear Shenzi chuckling slightly as she unsheathed both sets of sharp claws…

"An' now's the time ya learn your lesson, and what we hyenas do ta those who don't _listen_…"

* * *

><p><em>Well, this chapter was really long, and a little darker than some of the other ones I've posted. XD Soon we will reach the last leg of the first part of Trampled. Yay! I'm sure most of you have figured out what the hyenas do to him - if not, just sit there and wait a few chapters while I resolve this cliffhanger. :p <em>

_Next chapter is Mufasa and Sarabi and other stuff happening that I'm not going to say. x3 _

_Anyways... please leave a review, and a prediction on what you think will happen. It can be on any facet of the story - the hyenas and Scar, Scar and Mufasa, Scar and Zira, Sarabi, the Rafiki scene, anything... correct answers will get a cookie in several chapters. Incorrect ones will get you a pie... in the face. XD _

_But really, in all seriousness... I want to see how much you guys know (or think you know) so I can adjust accordingly. Obviously I don't want to give everything away at once. (: So leave a review! This should be fun. XD lol_

_Oh, and also... since Banzai's a Mexican hyena, I gave him some Spanish lines. xD What he said in English was: "You need me to leave? Well, that's fine. Goodbye, Shenzi." Just a random little thing I put in there._

_Despedidas! (Goodbyes!)_

_Twin (:_


	20. But Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me

_**A/N: **_

_Hey everyone, and welcome to this chapter... the chapter which not only is chapter 20, but is also one of the few I have not posted ridiculously late at night. Joy! Anyways, this chapter is definitely one of my longer ones... XD Which is good for those of you who like this story, and bad for those of you who don't (presumably no one, because otherwise you wouldn't be reading it xD). Review time! :D_

**_pokeking95: _**_Yay! Nice to see you're finally reviewing! :D You get a total high-five for that. XD Anyways, you were right about the Spanish... I guess I wasn't thinking too hard when I wrote that. -.- I should change it. Hope you enjoy the chapter! (:_

**_Reldor: _**_Wow, you really do like Scar, don't you...? XD [ I do too, it's okay ] You'd better keep that spray bottle handy... ) That way you can spritz the characters you don't like instead of yelling at them through the computer. XD_

**_mom: _**_Good call. But still... cookies... XD Anyways, I'm glad you liked the chapter. :D_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_I wouldn't say you're dumb... you actually seemed to understand what I was implying. XD I don't know if you'll like the hyenas this chapter - I guess we'll see. :p And yeah, she should've... Somehow I don't think Zira will be very happy about all this. xp Good luck on AMM! :D_

**_Shimmy Tsu: _**_Thanks for the review, and I hope you read the other chapters! :D Alas, as far as the "está bien" thing... bleh, I totally knew that. x.x Knowing me, I was writing it at 1 AM or something and forgot, which makes me feel especially bad. XD But thanks for telling me about the command thingy... it makes sense now. :p I still have to respond to your PM though. I don't think I've responded to anyone lately because I've been working on this. Grrr..._

**_Mykklaw: _**_Yeah, poor Scar. :[ I don't know, he must have just done that on a whim. Not really lke him... maybe he's just desperate. D: Hope you enjoy the chapter! :D_

**_Hognusing: _**_Yay, you're back! XD Glad to hear you're reading still, hehe. (: You've got some interesting predictions there. I'm not going to confirm whether any of them are right or wrong, but you should find out all this soon. ;) Enjoy the chapter!_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Ahh, that's okay. It happens to me too (all the time!). xD I really like Askari too - he's one of my favorite OCs [although I suppose he *technically* isn't an OC x.x]. More of him this chapter - enjoy. :p_

**_Incarnate Firefly: _**_Thanks so much for the review and for the PM. :D I don't know if you've gotten this far yet, but it was great to get an in-depth review from you and I hope you keep reading. ;) Thanks for the encouragement and I hope you enjoy the chapter. :) Oh, and as far as the Sarabi thing... what I was trying to say - phrased weirdly, albeit - was that the sadness she felt at losing her son had also turned into anger and a need to avenge Simba. Sorry if that was vapid. XD_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_And last but certainly not least is you this time. :p I was actually kind of worried you weren't going to review this chapter. XD Anyways... I've never seen the Final Destination movies, so I don't know wht you mean there. lol And that's okay - a lot of people seem to want to keep their predictions to themselves... XD Thanks for your input, and enjoy the chapter. (:_

* * *

><p>"Nice day out, isn't it, Nyota?"<p>

A young lioness treaded quietly across the grass, reveling in the warm touch of the sun as she moved efficiently across the plain. She closed her eyes momentarily, contentedly letting the inviting scent of the early morning fill her nostrils. Another lioness—much younger and barely out of adolescence—was sprawled out silently over a rock, sunbathing and idly studying the sparkling aura of the dew droplets, which had gathered on the fronds of plants in natural and bountiful abundance. Small droplets of liquid with the appearance of finely-shaped crystals, reflective and oddly mesmerizing…

"Mmmm, I suppose," the young lioness responded, absently batting one of the stalks of grass and watching as the edge-hanging droplets fell to the ground and moistened the soil beneath them.

The lioness laughed. "That's exactly what you always say. Even if it was pouring rain, you'd still shrug indifferently and say 'I suppose'."

"Well, _I suppose _so, Kitu," Nyota smirked, a brief note of playfulness in her features. "But, in all seriousness, it's nice having the day off." She rolled over and stretched her limbs out lazily, eyes closed and jaws spread in a luxuriant yawn to illustrate her point.

"You can say that again! Hunting is so tiring sometimes… and it seems like there are less impala and gnu ranging here now than there were at last full-moon." The lioness leapt lazily onto the rock, assuming a prone position across it as she sidled up next to her friend.

"Oh, so I _wasn't _the only one to notice, then…? I thought maybe it was because Sarabi is more… _unenthusiastic_… about hunting now since the stampede, and that's why we've been bringing back less."

"Hmm, that could be it, too," Kitu shrugged indifferently, rolling over onto her back and absently studying the fading-azure hue of the sky above them, as well as the shades of orange and gold peaking the atmosphere whilst the sun prepared to retreat below the unchanging line of the horizon.

Several moments passed in silence, save for the occasional calling of a group of disgruntled and squabbling flamingoes. The chirping of hundreds of crickets. The distant howling of a pack of wild dogs… normal sounds which recurred again and again in the ears of the inhabitants of the savanna. After a few seconds, however, the howling ceased and the birds took to the sky to pass out of sight, leaving only the gentle hum of the insects—which, either in spite or because of its continuousness, left the two lionesses in the midst of a calm and rather pleasant aura.

Only one thing was slightly amiss, and that was the lack of noise from the leonine inhabitants of the land. Where a normal evening would host a variation of triumphant roars after a successful hunt, or perhaps the animated and burbling conversations of many lionesses as they lounged, today it seemed that Nyota and her friend Kitu were one of the few lions around Pride Rock—a fact which, while probably benign, could have signaled something… perhaps even a general disturbance in the land.

Nyota, being astute, decided to voice this point, which did little to change Kitu's tired and rather relaxed attitude of calmness and optimism.

"Does it seem a little bit… I don't know… quiet to you?"

"Who? Me?" Kitu raised her eyebrows, eyelids fluttering as she promptly rolled over.

"Yes, you. We're the only ones here…"

"Hmm… yeah, I suppose. I've seen neither hide nor hair of Mufasa and Sarabi for several hours, if that's what you're asking. Mahiri said he left to go somewhere because he wanted to be alone, and I don't know what happened to Sarabi."

Nyota nodded blankly. "I haven't seen them, either… but that can't be it, can it? Where are all the lionesses?"

Kitu flopped onto her side and briefly propped herself up on her elbow, somewhat more engaged in the conversation now that Nyota continued pressing her point in between sporadic, thoughtful flicks of her tail. The older lioness chuckled quietly as a sudden thought came to her, and Nyota couldn't help but to fix her friend with a curious glare.

"Personally, I think that _Usiku _probably organized another hunt on our day off. How much would you be willing to bet that they left?"

"_Puh_," Nyota huffed bemusedly, "nothing, honestly. That lioness…" she paused and instinctively looked over her shoulder, almost as though she expected to find the black lioness there, "… she's insane sometimes. It'd be just like her to arrange a bombastic endeavor like that."

"Agreed. She scares me…"

"Yeah, she is the intimidating type, but maybe she'll bring back some food. Assuming that she shares it with us, that means a fresh meal instead of some leftovers out of the pantry… Oh, and speaking of that, _I _call first pick this time. Last time you got the meat near the top and I was stuck with some old, maggoty meat hunks. I don't even want to guess how old they were."

"Yeah, I guess that's the one disadvantage of not having to hunt for a day. Leftover night… goody," she droned rather unenthusiastically, kneading her claws into the rock as they waited there uneventfully.

"…Speaking of which, you want to go back? It's getting late, and I'm a little hungry myself." Nyota rolled over and rose to her feet emphatically, tail swishing as she faced her friend and waited for her reply.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Kitu rose and followed behind quietly, not caring much. "We should get to the pantry before it's too crowded… even though, if what I think is true, no one will be over there anyways."

"Okay."

Nyota shrugged, and waited for Kitu to approach her side before beginning to walk. The pair began walking abreast of each other, the last of the sun's rays beating down on their backs as they cheerfully began heading back. Indeed, there was little going on in their kingdom at this time of the day, and it gave them reason to relax and enjoy their short sojourn… but alas, the equilibrium of their calm situation was about to tumble into unstoppable impetus, and it was only a matter of time before the ripples of distress made their way to them as well…

* * *

><p>"Silent night, quiet night, run away—run outta sight. There's no tomorrow, only endless plight. Just me and you, we'll abscond tonight."<p>

Shenzi absently sang a short tune in the far Outlands, staring off into the oncoming darkness with seeming unconsciousness. There was no noise to signal the arrival of the other hyena, no sound or tell-tale disturbance in the surroundings. One moment there was only shadow, and the next he was there. Eyes glinting as he silently and avariciously drank in the views of the surrounding atmosphere. That was all.

"Where did you learn that?" He asked curiously, those same sharp eyes meeting her own now as they stood together, a pair of beings in the midst of barren nothingness.

"It's part of 'n old epic poem. Zamani taught it ta me when I was a pup…" she glanced downwards, shifting her weight uncomfortably before changing the subject, "…are we alone, 'Skari?"

"Of course. Would I be here if it were not so?" Askari flashed his fangs and sidled up to her, his bristly fur rubbing closely against her own.

"Mmm, I s'pose not… You know, I feel a little bad for bein' here. What with all the chaos and such. Zamani'd want me leadin' the pack."

"_Hmm_," he chuckled shortly, "yes, she would. But there's something about her… I wouldn't trust her, Shenzi, if I were you. She seems deranged and angry—not like a leader should be. Why you listen to her is beyond my comprehension."

"She's my _aunt_, Askari. I've known her for as long as I can remember… of course I trust her." Shenzi huffed, not sure what to make of his enigmatic insinuations. Yet, as much as she didn't particularly want to continue this part of their conversation, she felt it was necessary to explain just a bit more, perhaps in defense of the only being who had been there for her in her puphood. The one who had raised her and made her into a leader…

"Really, she's just angry 'cause Ahadi and Mufasa banished us, and we've had ta live in this danged place ever since I was a pup. Who wouldn't be mad? It's unjust, if ya ask me."

"If you think," he responded brusquely, patience wearing thin as he whipped his tail about and briefly turned away. "… I still don't quite believe her whole story about hunting laws and banishment and all that."

Shenzi shrugged. "Well, I guess I can't say fa sure if it's true… it was too long ago." She momentarily paused, eyes narrowing as she tried to rack her brains… but alas, nothing enlightening came to her about the incident. Nothing but more confusion. "And whadda you know about all this? How can ya say that?"

"Because. You don't think a lifetime of spying and intelligence-gathering—a lifetime which has been longer than yours, in fact—earned me _any _knowledge about the Pridelands? It seems to me, at this point, that I know more than you think, _Shenzi_."

"Guh, _whateva_. Just forget I said anything," she reproached him with a blunt growl, not in the mood to discuss this with him. He was smart… and while she was usually grateful for his intelligence, sometimes it was simply too much for his own good. Indeed, she often thought that that must have been why he'd run away. Why he'd had his finger amputated. Surely he must have done something, mouthed off to someone…

"I'm sorry, but ta be honest, I'd rather not argue about it right now, Askari. I just wanna be here, away from all 'a that… with you." She turned around and sat down, the partially-waned moon still a luxuriant white color behind her… a color which contrasted with the sheer dark of the night, which had lost its light and luster shortly after the set of the sun. Now, nearly everything would have been one unanimous shade, one congruous hue… were it not for the shine of the moon, which cast its cool light onto them and molded them into the shady forms of two blotchy silhouettes.

"I understand." He sighed. "And I'll support you until the end—I know you know that. I'm forever in your debt… but alas, I see you're wisening up. You see that I could be more to you than a mere… _advisor_." Askari flashed his fangs again, an odd look coming into his eyes as he delicately placed his paw on hers… Shenzi deigned to return a devious simper, understanding his drift.

"You _are _more than a mere 'advisor', Askari… You're a small bit of sanity and sense in between all the chaos around me. I dunno what I'd do without you."

The male hyena looked down at the ground briefly, something about him looking vaguely pensive, perhaps even slightly disquieted or sad—at least, his own version of sad… for to simply and bluntly call such a hyena as Askari 'sad' was certainly a stretch.

"I know how ya could repay me." She continued. "Just come closer… and whateva you do, don't go away."

"That's all you want me to do? Why, I'd be happy to oblige." Askari lay down next to Shenzi with about as much placidity as he could manage, again managing an ominous attempt at a grin. Shenzi shuffled a bit in her place, attempting to get comfortable in the midst of the parched soil, the cold night, and the warm hyena now abut to her…

Alas, though, the two of them were already becoming distracted by the other's presence. And while their distance from the Elephant Graveyard was commendably far, it seemed as though it was not quite far enough. For there was another being—a troubled one—who wandered the night. Alone and seemingly scorned. Mere quiet, padding footsteps and gentle breath amongst the gradually-forming desert. A creature that, while usually quite boisterous and unintelligent, was now rendered introspective and oddly reflective under the light of the moon…

"Did the Brotherhood ever teach ya any poetry, 'Skari? I'd hate ta think they didn't. Zamani was always so good at reciting them from memory… And it's _perfect _for nights like tonight…" she let her weary head rest on his shoulder, tired from all that had been happening and desirous of a little dose of comfort to help cope with the unexpected pressure.

"Yes, they did. It's not like yours, though… It's darker. That's how we liked it."

"Tell me some. I'd love ta hear it," she closed her eyes, an ineffable smile gradually appearing on her face as she relaxed on one end of his broad, muscular shoulders. Askari cleared his throat slowly and began to peruse his mind for some rusty verse, obviously not used to the request or inclined to speaking so much and so lyrically at once. Using a low and raspy growl—his own attempt at a soft and seductive whisper—he began.

"… _Look into the sky, and tell me what you see. For here the reigning vengeful rain send its drops on me_…"

The pair continued sitting, unaware of the lone figure treading in the midst of the wasteland. There were odd scents here. Faint ones. Familiar ones. A duo, in fact… a duo which seemed perverse to a lone and lovesick mind. A sharp contrast of beings which did not belong, should not—could not—be, and yet it was again. Why was this like it was? Why was he always the one brushed aside? How could life be so callous? Please, no, this could not be so…

"_Take a whiff of the air and tell me what you smell: the sanguine petrichor in the midst of misty dell_…"

Closer was he, and stronger were the trickling and odorous smells in the air. The lone hyena—a packmate and a subordinate—clambered closer, curious… too much so for any benefit to come of it. They were there. He knew it. Surely it was only a matter of time before this happened, just as it was only a matter of time for his detriment to turn to envy, and his envy into hatred… And just as it was only a matter of time before he saw them as no one had seen them before. Talking… together. A supposed mute speaking to the matriarch while the latter merely rested by his side, mesmerized as she listened to the words which should never have existed.

"_**I say this for tonight is the very night that calls…**__**Tonight is the very night that the tyrant falls…**__"_

The droning hum of his voice faded away, an enveloping silence immediately taking its place: a silence which was whole in its completeness and oddly satisfying. Shenzi remained there for a moment, still taking in his words as she gently took in a breath, smiled, and let out a soft moan…

"That's lovely."

"_But it is not as lovely as you, Shenzi_…"

"… _**Not as lovely as you**_…_" _Another voice echoed in a much louder tone from behind them. Shenzi quickly stiffened up, her ears startled to hear the indignant tone of Banzai from their rear, in the middle of this barren flatland. Askari immediately let his tongue loll out, laughing and attempting to slide back into seeming stupidity… but it was too late for that. Far, far too late…

"What are you doing here, Shenzi? With him, like that?" He motioned towards her absently, eyes narrowing as he found his way to Askari. "… And _you_… I knew there was somethin' about ya from the very beginning. I should rip you apart for leading her astray like that! She's _mine_!"

"_Confound it, Banzai, and may the skies curse you for your impudence! For goodness' sake, I've never loved you—__**get that through your head**__!"_

The matriarch let loose at him with her words, unbridled fury showing through her voice. How could he be so ignorant after all this time? It was always something, always some new accusation of wrongdoing from all sides. Shenzi and the male hyena had risen to their feet approximately simultaneously, and Askari had relapsed back into his proper self almost immediately. At that point, his inner soldier shown through, his face twisted into an expression that was horribly, devilishly angry. Shenzi nearly backed up a step at seeing it, fortunate that she wasn't the object of his stare.

"If you tell but a soul about this, I'll make sure you regret it."

"I'd like to see you try." Shenzi winced at his open invitation, at the defiant smirk on his face… the smirk which, despite its original hints of temerity, was quickly removed from his countenance as the angered hyena leapt at him with the seeming speed of a cheetah. The matriarch blinked, backing up a step and tripping over a root which was poking out of the ground. By that time, though, the two were already engaged in a brisk tussle—a fight which Askari was doubtlessly winning.

After several moments, Askari had already slashed at Banzai with his claws several times, and was seemingly close to pinning him down. Banzai, of course, was not expecting this, and was hopelessly backing up in his attempt to dodge Askari's aggressive forward maneuvers. This was not the same hyena who had ended up biting his own leg after their previous scuffle…

In a second, though, a blur had flashed before their eyes, and Banzai had briefly disappeared from Askari's sight… the hyena looked around quickly, leaping about to ensure this wasn't some kind of trick. But after several quick seconds, he saw that the young male had been pinned deftly by Shenzi, whose intentions were clearly to separate them. The older male sat down, confident smirch on his features as he sat there, the clear winner… but alas, Shenzi said nothing, and his expression was replaced with one of vapid cautiousness.

"What are ya doin', Banz'? Why on earth didja follow us?"

"I didn't follow you, Shenzi—I was wandering around and I smelled the both of you!"

The leader of the pack growled, irritated with him… "I still can't believe thatcha came here."

"I still can't believe I loved you…" he twiddled his paws together absently, earning a rueful sigh from Shenzi. Her paws, which were firmly planted on his shoulders, had been mildly soaked by faint rivulets of blood. Askari took a step closer, trying to eye his adversary closely.

"Banzai, please… Don'tcha tell anyone about this. Please. For me."

The male hyena under her narrowed his eyes, failing to see why he should do anything for her. Why he shouldn't expose the fact that this mute was a dangerous and possibly traitorous refugee. No reasons came to his mind… he was no longer loyal to Shenzi's will. He was merely loyal to the rest of his pack—and this was what was best for them. Once again, his words contrasted starkly with his thoughts…

"Not a problem, Shenz'."

_Not a chance, Shenzi…_

Shenzi got off of her subordinate and faux-second-in-command, before looking Askari—her real most trusted ally—in the eyes. His still glinted in the moonlight like sharp mirrors, contorted into an expression which betrayed eager impatience.

"… I jus' can't believe you guys. The both of ya. I'm gonna go back now… they're probably missin' me or somethin'…"

Askari stiffened up slightly, before easing into a fast trot that would allow him to catch up to her quickly retreating form.

"_Me? _What on earth did _I _do?"

Banzai eyed the male hyena as he passed by, a mixture of both anger and spite in his eyes as he watched him go. Alas, he was alone once again… and after he was sure he was out of sight, he took another route—a shortcut—back to the same destination. The elephant graveyard. Running as quickly as he could through the sparse bushes and the occasional bones of unfortunate animals, he wasted no time in getting back first, even as he approached the series of caves which served as their main headquarters, sweat forming on his back and his muscles already sore…

"_**ZAMANI!**_"

* * *

><p><em>Hmm, I'd say Banzai's had enough of Shenzi. XD I know that last part took way longer than the first, but both are important. :p And remember how I said that Mufasa and Sarabi would be in this chapter...? Well, I lied. XD Not intentionally, though, of course. I just felt like writing this scene instead of the ones that come in the next one-two chapters. <em>

_Anyways, I'm going to go riding in about three hours (YAY!), so I guess I'm going to go now. XD As always, review and leave what you think will happen! :D And if you like this story to the extent that you have waited for updates and read all twenty of these chapters now, then you should probably click the little check-box down there and fave it at this point. Just sayin'. :p_

_~Twin_


	21. Objection!

_**A/N: **Blah, today was one of those cold, rainy days where you have absolutely nothing to do... so obviously it's only natural that I should deidcate some time to this. x) If there was an abnormally long wait [although, in my eyes, it didn't end up being that long], that's because I had to think this part through carefully. There's a lot of stuff to wrap up to get to the next part, and I need to do it carefully. Indeed, I was supposed to conclude the part last chapter with the hyenas, but this chapter is already almost 3,000 words, so I didn't get to it. -.-_

_Review time. :p_

**_Reldor: _**_And you were the first out of like three people to say that... X) I considered having the two of them kiss, but it wasn'__t necessary and would have taken up too much time. The poetry was enough, lol. And yeah, things heat up really soon... :p I'd say the Pridelands will be in for a rough time... but they always are, so that's not surprising. (Honestly, can't five minutes pass down there without some sort of plotting or usurpation attempt? Geez... XD)_

**_IronicSnap: _**_YOU CHANGED YOUR AVI! :o Noooo, it doesn't have Scar on it anymore... DX And yes, that poetry was all mine. I deigned to try some... in fact, I may release a sort of poetry-parody thingy soon, but I'm not sure. x) And speaking of unreleased fics, I did read [secret project]... but haven't responded yet. I'll get right on that...! XD I've lost count as well, although admittedly I didn't know that word until recently. And no money was lost this time. :p_

**_mom: _**_Thanks for the review. XD I wrote all the poetry myself, although I hope it didn't seem out of place. o.o; Similar thing happening this chapter, although I tried to handle it a little better. :3_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Okay, now it's my turn to officially feel stupid. All this time I was waiting and wondering if you were going to review, and now I see you already did. XD Hehe. Anyways, as far as the review... yeah, the read aloud thing on my phone kind of creeps me out. x) I guess that's just me. lol And thank you. (: Truthfully, I don't read much poetry... I made all those up myself. :p I hope you keep continuing on with this story, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! :D_

**_Mykklaw: _**_Hehe, thanks! :D Glad you liked it. ;) And yeah, so it has been said... XD lol If that's the case though, I bet I'll have to change some stuff of mine to M in the future (eyes new fic suspiciously)... In any case, you'll find out Zamani's reaction next chapter. :p_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_That's okay, it happens. ;) lol And when you said it reminded you of FD, do you mean the foreshadowing, or the repetitive story lines? I'm hoping not the latter, because then my efforts will have been abated. x) Glad you liked the update... and we'll see just what happens with the pair next chapter. :p_

**_pokeking95: _**_It's fine, don't sweat it. (: Yeah, I've heard the very same about college, and I suppose I'll be going there in a year-ish so... X) Yeah. lol I'm glad you liked the interatction of the hyenas, and I apologize if you think it's a bit lax for movement right now... I'm trying to build up to a good first climax without having everything happening too early or all at once. I don't want to be overwhelming, though I am trying to pick up the pace. :3 On a side note, I'm glad you liked Thus Always' first chapter. :D_

**_Shimmy Tsu: _**_Wow, thanks for reading all that way already! :D Hope you keep reading and get to this point (Chapter 21) soon. ;) But I know life can be stressful, and it's hard to catch up to a fic ten chapters ahead of you... so take your time. x) Thanks for the compliments too. (:_

_Read on. :p_

* * *

><p>There had been a cry in the savannah. One which, while loud at its source, had traversed the barren Outlands as a subtle susurration disturbing the otherwise peaceful habitations there. In one of the trees, a roosting flock of birds rose to the sky in alarm. Herbivores pricked up their ears momentarily in concern before they continued to graze, and primates took to the trees in flight. Moments passed in disruption… though after this period passed, there was but silence, and nothing interesting or unusual of note happened there.<p>

Until, of course, the lion walked by. Indeed, any animals which had become frightened before now hid themselves in shock and fear, afraid of what exactly this creature was and what it intended to do. Was it a harbinger of death? The bane of all life and every inhabitant of the African ecosystem? Such were the paranoia-inflicted thoughts of many frightened and cowering prey animals as they promptly retreated from sight… yet it was not so.

The lion staggered across the landscape, barely managing an impeded limp across the tall and hindering grass. Stalks of it hit him squarely in the chest and generally were a nuisance, though he did his best to soldier on and continue through the open fields that defined the vague, northern border of the Pridelands. To his rear somewhere, already out of sight, was the graveyard of elephants and the home of many vengeful hyenas. It also happened to be the place which he was abandoning—or, rather, trying to abandon. His procession was slow and rather awkward, and the sharp rocks hidden in the grasses, which indiscriminately cut the pads of his paws at practically every other step, did nothing to soothe the smarting pain in his already hurting appendages.

He was tired and, what was worse, leaving a fresh and messy trail behind him. It would be a surprise if any predator within a mile's radius couldn't smell him or the acute scent of his spilled blood, which had been slavered generously across the ground.

The lion stopped again to rest, cringing in pain and barely suppressing another stifling cry as he gingerly placed his left forepaw on the ground… for the first time in a while. He panted, catching his breath, and heaved a heavy sigh. Pain continued to afflict him from all sides, and overall it was a relatively demoralizing and debilitating affair. Persistence alone had kept him walking upon his three good feet… and only now was he able to spare his hurt paw a lick or two, clearing the quickly and sloppily-rent flesh of the dirt and grime beginning to cling to it. Another sharp jab of pain was added on to the chronic throb of his entire limb, and the part of him that wasn't utterly concerned for his immediate well-being was both curious and utterly confused… After all, how could the removal of such a small part of his body entail so much _bloodshed_…?

He stopped, another labored breath filling his lungs as he sheepishly studied his paw. Practically all of it had been covered already by the deep, crimson liquid, and much of it had begun to trickle in rivulets down his arm. There were even some spatters on his chest from where he had cradled his leg in an attempt at a walk. Another pang of concern spread throughout him—as much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't quite deny the fact that he was now deeply afraid. For mere thoughts had turned into words, and words into actions… Things could only go from bad to worse, couldn't they?

Something had to be wrong. It shouldn't have been bleeding quite this much…

"Scar!"

A call addressed him from nearby, causing him to turn his head absently in an attempt to find the source. Indeed, now he could hear the footsteps in addition to the voice of a lioness… he lifted his head up and took a slow whiff of the air, vaguely detecting Zira's scent underneath the overwhelming and more poignant presence of his own.

"_What are you doing here_? I thought I told you to stay back where you belong…" his frustration and wariness were only ameliorated by the presence of this strange and all-too-enigmatic lioness. Why was she doing this? Why did it seem fit to her to show up, uninvited, at his exact whereabouts at the most inconvenient of times? Surely she would be begging to go with him now…

"Are you alright, dear? I came to find you, in case something went wrong…" the stalks of grass nearby rustled rhythmically as she made her way through them, using his own pungent scent as a device to locate him. Scar finally ceased arguing, realizing that resistance was futile. Zira then burst through the last layer of grass, standing directly opposite him with an absent and vaguely compunction-wrought expression on her face. "And I was just thinking that… that…" her body tensed as she stopped, and her eyes slowly and inevitably went towards the source of the scent… towards the bloodshed profusely emanating from his paw…

"… _What the hell happened to you?!_" she snarled, her face now twisted into a pure embodiment of rash, protective anger. Scar shirked and sidestepped—both literally and metaphorically—and uncomfortably attempted to circumvent her righteous rage… but alas, she wasn't over. Not yet.

"Honestly, what in the holy name of goodness were you _thinking_? Getting yourself hurt like that? I knew it… I knew something was off all along! And you didn't even let me come with you… I could have protected you—I could have kept all this from happening!" She hung her head, ashamed not only of Scar but of herself. The older lion growled, irritated by her brash persistence and suddenly-instigated raving. He had to get her off his back, away from his trail somehow… His time was running short.

"My dear, you could not have done anything about it. I am still alive—it is but an extraneous setback. Do not trouble yourself…" He attempted to brush past her quietly, to stalk off into the night as though nothing had really happened at all. But he still remembered everything. He still remembered every word of the matriarch and her oddly-audible friend as their fangs gleaned in the dark and they slowly, horribly mutilated him…

Zira whirled around and jumped in front of him, a strange and eerie quality present in her red eyes. She stood up to him quietly, not backing down and refusing to be cast aside. The lioness would not permit him to leave like that… not yet, at least.

"Fool! That's easy for you to say… you're lucky they cut your _paw _and not your throat…"

He stopped suddenly, now feeling the sudden urge to smack her… but he did not. It would be imprudent… and maybe, just maybe, she actually had a point. The lion wanted to say that he knew what he was doing, but the truth was that he didn't. Nothing really made much sense anymore, and he felt as though he should have been dead already. His options were slowly narrowing…

It still made him angry, though. How dare she call him a fool? And why should she see fit to question his motives? Who did she think she was?

"_Maybe they should have… _at least it would signify an ending to all of this _nonsense…_" he growled with a note of apparent self-pity, having introspectively been cursing his string of bad luck since… well, since the stampede plan had gone so horribly, horribly wrong…

"The Scar I know wouldn't have given up so easily," she retorted simply, her expression clearly betraying a need to question the very veracity of his statement. But alas, she too was making no sense. The Scar she knew? He had never known her in the first place… and how was it any of her business?

"Well, then I must admit that it is a pain to have disappointed you, my dear," he closed his eyes and turned away from her indifferently, an arrogant veneer all too easy to keep on his face as he tried to ignore her, tried to block her out of his vision… But she was persistent—he would give her that much.

"_Curses on you! _You're going to get your stubborn self killed unless you think this through! Are you listening to me? Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere…"

"_Don't you dare lie to me!" _The lioness paused as he continued walking to the south… "Come on… surely you aren't going to the Pridelands, are you?" She fixed him with that cold, knowing stare of hers, fangs glinting in a show of anger such that he had never before seen from her. Alas, he was beginning to understand why she was called Zira more and more with every passing day: she had the potential to get contorted by rage, and was almost belligerently brash. She was trying to wrap him around her pinky—she was trying to dominate.

He could not let that happen. She was younger, smaller, of the weaker sex… and he hated submitting almost as much as she did. All of his life he'd had to submit, but no. Not this time. No more.

Scar had made up his mind—indeed, it was almost as though a part of his mindset had come off along with the first of his fingers. He was not, and would not be, the hyenas' chew toy. He would not run about and do their bidding like a coward anymore. He had to think this through, come up with a plan against them. But first off, in the meantime, he had to escape and go into hiding in the jungle: their chances of finding him there were almost nil, provided he made it there before they found him. Surely, once they found out of his desertion, they would set off to find him… provided they didn't 'raise hell' in the Pridelands first. For he knew—though he didn't have any exact evidence on this point—that something awry was going to happen, and soon.

Perhaps the only catch of his otherwise foolproof plan was the inconvenient fact that the quickest route to the Southern Jungles was through the Pridelands, along the gorge… the very same one from whence the stampede had been set and Simba had died. Any other route was too indirect, too circuitous… and he needed to be quick if he was to cover enough ground before the hyenas were set on him.

After he got there, he wasn't exactly sure what he would do, though he was already planning. Surely his superior intelligence and finely-honed skills of manipulation would allow him to raise his very own group of rogue followers, just as he had—without much success—done with the hyenas. Only this time they would be more trustworthy, and he could go on the offensive…

Or something along those lines. He still had to think through the details of that… although he did know one thing for certain: Zira would not be among his group. She was too unpredictable, too vaguely enigmatic, too... uncertain. A wild card. And if she turned on him during his little escapade, it might be the difference between his life and death. Now was his chance to let her go, to get her off his back… and so it was that he felt no remorse for lying to her. In fact, it was almost fun to toy with her easily agitated mind, even though it suited his interests more to placate her than to molest her.

"Oh no, my dear. Why would I make such a foolish mistake as that?"

She lifted her eyebrow, not entirely convinced.

"Why," he continued, "you see, I'm heading to the east. Outside the border. I need to meet the hyenas there for a ransom." The lion lied smoothly, not even deigning to bat an eye or look away. There was only that same, calm façade on his face. One that was almost comforting, a look that incited trust, however misplaced it may have been. It worked every time, and this would have been no exception… had Zira not seen fit to question his motives yet again.

"Well, then I shall go with you," she concluded complacently, practically daring him to defy her this time. Scar turned and bared his fangs slightly in frustration… no, that was not supposed to happen. Why could she never understand that he didn't want her around?

"I _said_…" he cleared his throat brusquely, still subtly trying to assert his dominance in the matter, "I'm meeting them for a _ransom_…"

Zira stood there, nonplussed.

"Which _means _that you will need to hunt for me, just like last time. You did it once, and you can do it again, right?"

The lioness paused, suddenly looking distressed. She pressed her lips together, forming them into a thin line which spread across her countenance.

"…Right?"

Zira scuffed the base of the dirt with her paw, refusing to meet his gaze… and suddenly looking somewhat disappointed in herself. Scar wanted her to do something—something as simple as another payload of prey… but she knew she couldn't do it, even if she tried. There was no way she could fulfill that request, and for a brief moment she felt as though the weight of sudden expectation would crush her.

Before, of course, she came up with an ingenious idea.

"Well… it would be easier if you came with me, Scar… It'd be awfully, er, difficult on my own…"

Scar couldn't help but heave another sigh. Back to square one—getting Zira off his tail, even though she _insisted _on following him every single step of the way. Finally he had enough: he was getting nowhere.

"**No**," he commanded simply, attempting to use his implied power over her to instigate a cessation to their conversation. It was his last resort—though, with someone like her, it probably wouldn't work anyways. He was close to mentally snapping: something which happened rarely, for anger had a hard time penetrating his naturally calm composure, but still had the potential to be destructive…

"And why not?" she lashed her tail about with frustration, "you expect me to do everything on my own? I'm willing to help, but that… that is ridiculous! Why… why do you always try to get rid of me?"

"_Because I do not want you around,_" he growled brutally, his honesty almost cutting and clearly venomous. Zira stood for a moment, almost soothed by the delicate purr of his words… until, of course, she had deciphered the meaning of them.

"… What?"

"I do not like you, I do not trust you, and I no longer _need _you. Leave."

Unfortunately, a part of him—albeit a small part of him—felt just the smallest bit sad at castigating her so harshly, especially as he saw her dejected reaction. Indeed, instead of getting angry as he had expected, her face had drooped with shame and disappointment, inciting just the smallest pang on his part… a pang which, akin to a snowball hurled through the burning depths of hell, was quickly extinguished by his cruelly kindled indifference. And as much as he hated being so frankly, austerely scathing, she had proven herself ignorant to his subtle equivocations more than once. That was not his fault. He turned away, attempting to wash his paws of it and leave it all behind him.

"But I _love_ you!"

Scar stopped. It was these moments where, quite apart from merely disliking or distrusting her, she simply _confused _him. He scoffed.

"… You know nothing of love. For one thing it hurts, cub."

Zira appeared indignant, and on the verge of tears. Scar resumed his walk away, trying to make up the time he had lost in idle conversation. This time, she did not follow.

"… They were right about you. All of them."

"What do you mean?" he mumbled, not meeting her gaze or even ceasing his impeded limp away from her.

"They said you were a greedy, selfish lion, only out to save your own hide. I refused to believe them… I saw you and I thought that I understood you. But you're right, Scar. I was foolish…" she responded with a sniffle, a commendable and equally scathing note in her voice. Never had it been her intention to hurt him, and yet he had so callously done the same to her. She told herself that it was only fair for her to respond in kind, and she did. Yet, under her anger, there was always a small part of her which only wanted to please him.

But it was no use. She had to give it up.

"Goodbye," she spoke quietly and not without a hint of fondness. No response. The lioness turned and left, leaving Scar alone as he headed off towards the gorge where it all began, and where it all could end…

There was no emotion on his face, even though his mind was calmly and logically filtering through a seeming list of other, similar things. Rejection was tough… but it was a part of life.

That was simply the way it went.

* * *

><p><em>Well, I'm pretty happy right now. (: Firstly because Trampled reached 30 faves last night [3 in the last chapter... looks like you guys are more astute to my hints than Zira was to Scar's! XD], and secondly because my half-birthdayunbirthday/call-it-what-you-like is on the 17th of November. Since I don't know if I'll have updated by then, feel free to leave me a half-birthday review/fave/follow now if you'd like. :p (I'll be 14 and a half)._

_Also, I uploaded the first chapter of a new fic. It's called Thus Always, and - oh, look - it's an AU! Kind of like Trampled. :p Personally, I think you guys would really like it... ;) So feel free to R&R there if you'd like. 7 people already have... so go join the bandwagon! XD Hehe._

_Rejection hurts, no? What do you guys think will happen? Hyena chapter next time... how do you think THAT will blow over? ;o How will Zamani feel about this? And what's Mufasa been up to? Readreadread next time, folks. ;)_

_Twin :)_


	22. Let Slip the Hyenas of War

_**A/N: **Wow, I really went all-out on this chapter. o.o It's over 4,000 words... and I wrote 3,000 or so of them in just the last 4-ish hours. XD Daaaaang... lolol Anyways, there is no Scar in this chapter. Bet you all are surprised, right? -.o Hahahahaha, yeah, don't answer that. x.x_

_Review time._

**_IronicSnap: _**_And... you did it again. Way to keep me on my toes, if that's what you were going for. XD Send me more of [SECRET TUNNEL, SECRET TUNNEEEEEL] (? xD) soon, if you can. Your first chapter was amusing. :p Glad you liked last chapter. As far as the name: I am unaware of Pheonix Wright, although I AM aware of some meme where a guy yells "OBJECTION!", which is probably what you are referring to. I believe Atticus also was involved in the naming decision somewhere. Since he's awesome and all. . _

**_mom: _**_Yeah, the last two of those I actually learned at school (which is weird, since I learn hardly any new words there... most of the credit for my vocabulary goes to dictionary-reading, trivia, and the Internet. x.x). I'm assuming he already knew them, since otherwise he would have said something. Oh, and speaking of kate... I haven't seen her in forever. [If you're reading this, kate, then feel free to start reviewing again. XD]_

**_Reldor: _**_Yeah, you'll see what happens with Sarabi this chapter. You might be surprised. ;) lolol And Zira... you've just gotta love her. XD Especially in this fic, since she's [relatively] young and innocent. :p_

**_pokeking95: _**_Awww, you beat yourself up too much. :[ Your reviews are just fine, and I appreciate them. (: About college: it depends. If I do running start like I [REALLY] want to, then yes: I'll be the 15-year-old junior walking around on campus. x) However, that could be a problem, since the community college is across town and I'd obviously still be too young to drive. -.- Sheesh, state driving laws and high school, you insist on locking me in your stupid labyrinth of mediocrity. e.e I could elaborate more, but that'd be more for PM. x) lolol_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Hahaha, I figured as such, so don't worry. ;) lol Besides, if this plot line is repetitive, then I have failed as an author, because I *specifically* intended from the very beginning for it not to be that way. XD Which is saying something, since this fic differs considerably from its original intended form. Yes, good luck for Scar - he's going to need it. He could have a hard trip ahead if he's not careful. ;p_

**_Mykklaw: _**_Nahhh, that doesn't. :p I liked writing that part too, especially how she flipped out at him. x) And thanks for the not-birthday wishes. lol :) And yeah, Scar can be a bit frustrating. But we love him all the same, don't we? XD_

_**TheTrueJuliet: **Hehehe, yeah, she finally came clean. x) Although I suppose it wasn't the first time - he simply didn't listen. And I saw your review over at Thus... I'm thinking that's going to be a fun story to write. ;) Admittedly, the mental image of Scar with Timon and Pumbaa *is* hilariously intriguing... I wonder how they would get along. XD First things first, though - he has to get there. :p So good luck and bon voyage to Scar, who will show up next chapter. ;)_

* * *

><p>Uproar.<p>

That was, perhaps, the first word that would come to mind at an accurate depiction of the scene in the cave. Of course, it was always an uproar regardless of what happened—that was merely how life as a hyena was. Boisterous, bustling, brimming with spirit… that much could be depended on as certain. But this time was different. Instead of the masses being merely impatient and scrapping with each other over morsels of food, this time they were all united. Growling and pacing and shouting with anger at what was unfolding at the head of the cavern.

Four hyenas stood, two across from two, fur similarly bristling and countenances wrought with irritation. These details were hardly visible, however—it may have been the early morning, but the atmosphere of the hyenas' home could still be likened to that of the hue of pitch or tar.

"Why?"

The query on Zamani's part was simple, and it was apt to express and summate all of her thoughts. Her face narrowed, a critical scowl on her face as she waited, concerned… Shenzi felt a twinge of guilt at disappointing her aunt and her pack; but, at the same time, she felt that it was justified. It was none of their business. They didn't know Askari like she did. And indeed, they still didn't. The hyena played dumb, drooling as he tried to his utmost to conceal his identity, even if it was clearly futile at this point. There was no way to rid them of their suspicions, no way to make Banzai undo his confession. They had been playing their game of lies and masquerades for too long—now it was over. Zamani knew. She wasn't fooled by anything.

Turning to Ed, she nodded ruefully, her last surreptitious signal to him… and from that point onwards he was no longer Ed. Never again would he be Ed. The lucidity was again borne into that hyena's eyes, like a phoenix rising from the dregs of ashes and embers, a weak and pitiful light forming into something fierce and destructive, like the wildfires that ravaged the land and came from but a spark…

Askari sighed bitterly and growled, eyes glinting in the lack of light. He said nothing. He didn't need to.

Zamani huffed, and Banzai—now strategically positioned behind her, lest Askari attack him—tapped her in the side with his paw. His actions similarly spoke for themselves.

_See, I told you!_

"Ya ask me why, auntie, and I tell ya—why not? What harm has he done us?"

"_Why not?_" Zamani's voice rose, expressing her rising anger at the discovery that had just been proved correct. "Whaddya you sayin', Shenzi Marie? That you're a gullible li'l pup? What were ya gonna do, just lay out the welcome mat for 'im and wait until he _kills _us? That's what he does, Shenzi—him and all those Brotherhood _filth_! They **kill**! And he'd do just the same ta you!"

"No, but auntie Zamani, he ain't like that. He wouldn't, he's… he's—" she stammered in a weak attempt to plead, although she was fully aware of just how pathetic it sounded. It was not fitting for her, a leader… all of this was embarrassing, humiliating… but Askari interrupted, oddly enough. Many of the hyenas tensed, surprised at how clear his words sounded. Most of all, however, they felt spited. Mocked. Afraid. And it was clear why, with the ferocity and certainty that he uttered them.

"_I would never harm her_, and she knows that. I am a refugee… and betrayed by them or not, those hyenas are my _family_, and I shall never permit for them to be called _filth _in my presence."

Shenzi bristled a little at his forwardness as he emitted a snarl, knowing that this was calling for trouble. The hyenas around him growled in return, receiving his words as a threat. Askari cared not for them, nor did he care for much for the indignant face of Zamani… the latter of whom was bent over, one leg—still injured—lifted off the ground as the rest of her old form sagged slightly from age.

"'Skari…" Shenzi whispered in a cautioning tone, attempting to ease some of his anger. At this rate, she would be lucky if he wasn't exiled…

"Heya, Zamani's right! Ya see?" Banzai spoke up, showing off the numerous scratches—still fresh and bleeding—which Askari had meted mere moments before on him. "He's the one who did this!" He pointed to the hyena, who stood his ground… albeit the fact that it took him the utmost effort in order to not leap at Banzai and make him a victim. For alas, he had killed before, and in such a situation it was only natural… like an instinct or a born intuition. All of his training told him to attack, and yet he didn't… even if only out of consideration to Shenzi and the pack she led.

The pack themselves looked as if they had been electrified. With the fury of one who has discovered a treacherous plot against them, the crowd yelled and eventually started a panicked, odious, chanting cry. Young and old, male and female, they all shouted and bellowed, their peals of raucous and personified passion reverberating throughout the walls.

"…**KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM…**"

_Oh no… No…_

Shenzi stiffened up, her paw instinctively clutching at Askari's, away from the prying eyes of Banzai and Zamani. Her digits intertwined with his in sudden desperation. Askari, however, seemed calmer and more composed in the midst of the chaos, callously and relentlessly standing there, not saying a word. His fangs were exposed in his own, slightly brutal way… but he showed no aggression.

"_SILENCE_!"

Zamani called out to the crowd, the whole of them immediately deferring to her will. Not only did the ruckus stop, but the entire noise seemed to cease also. They all huddled together in anticipation, eerily silent as they waited to see what fate, if any, would befall the recently-exposed ex-assassin.

"I believe this could work ta a' advantage… heheh … so, _'Brother_'," she mocked disparagingly, "ya know how ta _kill_, don'tcha?"

Shenzi's aunt grinned with a surprising look of malice in her dark eyes. Askari, for the first time, looked hesitant, and confused… he looked to Shenzi, obviously pondering if he should continue or simply remain silent.

"'T's over, 'Skari. Do what she says."

There was a pause as he dispelled the last of his diffidence.

"… Yes, I am able to."

"Good," she responded flatly, "… then we can finish this mess once and fa all. Ya see, _Shenz_' here got us in a bit of a pickle with ta king's brother, and we a'ready have a grudge of sorts with ta king… so it'd be nice if, ya know… you could—"

"Whoa, whoa, _wait _a sec, auntie… Ya want him ta kill them both…? How can you do tha—"

"_QUIET_, Shenzi! Ya are the one who got us all inta this mess 'n the first place! I thoughtcha could lead. Thoughtcha were all yare an' ready. But I was wrong… and we've no time fa this! Are ya with me or not?"

Shenzi narrowed her skeptically, almost wishing to question her. To ask what right she thought she had that could enable her to do such a thing. But on the other hand… she was her aunt. The former leader. She technically had every right to it, to come out of retirement and seize power for herself. Shenzi was still young and inexperienced, and the hyenas seemed to agree, nodding in assent and not raising any of their voices to counter Zamani's sudden assertion. The old hyena was fully intent on making this decision for herself, taking the fate of her pack—at least temporarily—into her own paws. Shenzi could do nothing but defer… She was outnumbered, the consensus of the pack favoring her aunt over her.

"'Skari," she sighed submissively, if only out of respect for her elders, "do what she says. Obey her like she's me."

Askari's inherent tension dispersed somewhat, his face—previously like a growling, ragged cut of stone—relapsing into his usual serious, vaguely morose expression.

"What do you wish me to do?"

"Kill Mufasa and Scar."

"_Hm_…" he huffed shortly, although his facial expression in no way appeared bemused, "… when shall I depart?"

"Immediately," she stated phlegmatically, a vein of coldness in her coming out into her voice, revealing a determined firmness that almost dared him to oppose her. But Askari was did not deign to. It wasn't numbers, or intimidation… it was an odd sense of pride. Honor. He had no intentions of hurting Shenzi's family and making them his enemies. She had done so much for him, and he could never afford to hurt her like that.

"… Then I assure you, madam, that the problem will be…" he looked at Shenzi, a rueful expression on his face as he flashed his fangs. He felt no shame and was remorseless at the prospect of killing. Indeed, there were other reasons for him to feel regretful… "… _extirpated…_"

"Good." Zamani flashed her fangs in a similar show, only with malice in her features instead. Malice for the monarchs of the Pridelands. And malice, of course, for him…

A moment passed. And at the end of that moment, Askari was gone. Gone. No trace of him remained. There were no goodbyes, and no sign of him leaving. He was merely there, and then he was no longer. The hyenas in the crowd gasped and scratched their heads, none of them recalling seeing him disappear. For there was nothing more important to prompt, pragmatic Askari than duty. To the pack, to Shenzi… he had to go through with it because he was told. Because that was merely the way he was: he was a soldier at heart, and he always would be, no matter of the consequences…

Shenzi paced, agitated, and ran out of the cave, almost as though she expected to find him there. She even attempted to call out to him, but there was no answer. Only silence. She breathed silently, her expression growing saddened.

Of course, she had no idea of what was to come. She was unaware. It was merely necessary, she told herself. Yes, necessary. Zamani… she knew what she was doing.

The only other who knew of it was Asokai, his submissive and loyal form crouched under the old matriarch, his fur bristling in fear as he awaited her command.

"… _If 'e's smart, that untrustworthy mercenary'll kill 'em an' leave. But if he doesn't—if he comes back—get a group of hyenas with ya and get rid 'a him. Make sure it's the last thing he ever does._"

Asokai nodded and retreated hastily, while Zamani, unheard by the rest of her peers, only smiled a knowing smile as the sun finally broke through the darkness in the cave.

"_Hehehe… _you'd better run, princies. For tonight I'm gonna get my _revenge _on the both of you_…_"

* * *

><p>Mufasa.<p>

It was a name, at its surface. A simple three-syllable word, with a soothing sound and a positive feel that tickled the ears. That was all that it was… and yet, at the same time, it was so much more. For, to the subjects of his realm, Mufasa had come to be a synonym for greatness. Another word for strength. A representation of majesty. Mufasa was the archetype of a king, and so his name had been associated with nothing but the very same. That was how he was perceived, and the king had formerly reveled in the adulation of his adoring, fawning fans.

There was, however, another side to him. A darker, quiet side of him. One which rarely made its way to the surface… at least, before the accident. For now was one of those times when the other side of Mufasa peaked, his emotions stewing into a depressing, melancholy humor which steeped him and sadness and left him groveling with despair.

He couldn't believe he was there. The gorge. The place where his family had been forcefully rent into several different pieces, and where the royal lineages' youngest member had been cut down in his mere youth. The king solemnly treaded through the silent, narrow passage, eyes narrowing and his paws quietly padding over the earth.

Here. Here was the spot. He could still see a little bit of dried, crusted blood on the rock floor of the expanse, though that wasn't what had caused him to find the very place where Simba's dead body once lay. For, whether he liked it or not, this entire site was ingrained forcefully, and probably permanently, into his memory. The minute differences in the shape of the rock, the small and rocky coves—filled with stalactites—which formed crevices in the otherwise sheer, uniform surfaces. Small bends in the terrain, the wisps of long-forgotten and trampled vegetation... Everything was just as it was, and probably always would be.

The monarch collapsed in sadness, tears brimming in his eyes. There was no desperate sobbing, no strained and horrible cries emitting from his being. No expression of pain on his face… only the tears, steadily streaming and pooling and flowing in gentle, yielding rivulets.

It was almost like a ritual for him, for he was anchored firmly to the past. Alas, it was his weary paws and sickened heart alone—not his mind—that had brought him to his son's last place of life. Where a stray hoof had forever denied him the dignified existence he should have led.

… He could still remember the look of the body. Perhaps that was the worst part of it. It was the pain-wrenching facet which always brought his mind circling back: the snapped neck, the pained countenance, the wounded and partially broken form laid placid and bare of its verve on the cold, rocky stone…

_Simba…_

A part of him felt horrible and ashamed for dwelling on such a set of circumstances, when he could be preparing for what was to come and leading his pride. But, for the first time in his kingship, he felt… _distant_… His relationships and kingdom had been suffering, and his duties felt inane and needless: the very ones he should have been executing dutifully at that moment. Yes, a part of him felt horrible, but another, greater, indulgent part of him felt overwhelmingly good. Refreshed. For each tear was a horrible weight on him, and it felt good to simply let them out. To release them. To temporarily rid himself of a small part of the overwhelming, all-consuming sorrow in his heart. It was not enough… it would never be enough. But at least he could—if only for a few moments—relieve the aching, fiery itch which burned inside of him. Indeed, there was something he needed. A gap which needed to be filled… but he could not identify what it was, or how to alleviate his emotionally draining sorrows and urges. For now, all he could do was mourn, and perhaps rage. Everything else was far beyond his state of mind and his emotional capacities, at least at the moment.

The only catch was that he was not alone. For another was there, unbeknownst to him—a lioness, cautiously navigating the scoping cliffs and the scraggly edges of the ravine. Her paws treaded but mere inches from the top of the gorge: the edge of a fatal plummet which would surely leave any lion dead. She'd been watching him intently, almost surprised by his presence. For she too had originally come to mourn, even though she had recently begotten other ideas. Creeping closer to the edge, the newfound and morbid part of her was curiously and almost benignly pondering whether or not death was sure to come to one who over-stepped the end.

She stopped, temporarily cast in place by the sight of Mufasa, her former mate. The lioness looked at him, her huntress eyes studying him and subconsciously noting the true sadness on his face. The tears dripping on his wet face. Sarabi growled for a moment, face hardening… but then it softened. He claws were content to scrap the edge of the cliff, and she again looked down, still wondering.

An urge flared up inside her: one she knew to be dangerous, and one she logically knew to avoid. Yet it was still there, begging and pleading with her. It was wrong, repulsive… yet the temptation lured her closer, piquing her curiosity. The shattered lioness followed like a submissive puppy, almost thoughtlessly, her eyes empty as she took a step.

_Come on… take another stride, Sarabi. Jump. They'll never know you were gone._

_ Come… come, Sarabi. Be with your son. Your son who was so __**cruelly **__taken._

Sarabi's paw suddenly wavered, now diffident over whether she should obey. The lioness grunted weakly, her limb extending, and then returning, before going back out… her indifference was a mere reflection of the argument trapped and contained within her mind. The bleating sirens and the horrible cacophony which, unbeknownst to anyone else, was what was slowly, painfully driving her to the brink of insanity…

Her body stiffened, and her self-preservation demanded that she instinctually retreat back. Another loud chorus erupted in her mind, and she could do nothing but wince as the pain throbbed in her head. She closed her eyes and cried out, only a vague and hazy wisp of a moment marking the transition between her stubborn anger and her lucid logic. For she suddenly realized what she was doing in shock and fear, the shreds of her mind only confirming that she was in dire straits. That something must have been horribly, desperately wrong with her for her to consider such a desperate leap.

Or perhaps that was what was driving her to the edge in the first place. For surely, someone as bad off as her deserved death. Life was too saddening and painful, not to mention that if she lived, she would probably live long enough to helplessly watch as her entire mind was consumed and she became a threat to her family and friends.

She could not let that happen. Even if it cost her life, she had to protect the pride. Besides, no one would miss her. She deserved to die.

Strengthening her resolve and submitting to both the popular pleas of her mind and the twisted logic in her brain, Sarabi prepared herself for the final step. The last breath. The final moments of life. Looking down at the sheer and deadly drop before her, she put forward her paw and was about to close her eyes in a last submission to gravity.

Indeed, it seemed highly likely that Sarabi's body would be broken beyond repair and snuffed of its life in a matter of seconds… had it not been for one miraculous thing. A voice. And not just any normal voice—a surreal susurration, seemingly born from something other than the external world. Perhaps the oddest thing about it, however, was the title it addressed her as. A name she had not been called in too long.

"_… Mom… Mom?"_

Sarabi stopped and again stiffened, fear innately coursing through her. She turned and looked over her shoulder, setting her raised paw back on the ground as she swiveled around and scanned for the source. Surely enough, in the center of her vision, there was a small, golden cub, jumping and frolicking and begging for attention.

Was this a ghost? A torment sent to further injure her grievous self? What was this? Her mind assumed the worst, her ears pricking in apprehension and aversion. But there was something else—a twinge of familiarity with this scene. A sort of subconscious knowledge of what would happen, and what this encounter would entail. For in the end, it was none of what she assumed… it was a memory. Lost and long-forgotten, only retained in the bare fringes of her mind. Indeed, it was a sad truth, but the images and remembrances of her and Simba had declined and faded, as only pain was sure to abound when she pondered them. She had almost forgotten of the joys the two had once shared…

"_… MOM! Mom, come on! You said you'd show me how to hunt today! Mom! Mom! Mooooommmmmm!"_

The young, impetuous cub leapt at her, almost causing her to back off the cliff in surprise as she tried to dodge the figure. In the end, however, nothing happened. This Simba had no substance, as the real flesh-and-blood version was irreparably dead.

_"Simba… Simba, not today, please. I'm tired."_

Sarabi heard and recognized her own voice in response to Simba's, even though she had spoken no words aloud. In her mind's eye, portrayed as a part of the vivid sight she was now seeing, she could even see a former version of herself, slumping across the ground and attempting to take a nap as the cub again plunged against her for a second time.

"_Come on! You always have time for the lionesses, but whenever I want to learn to hunt it's always 'noooo, Simba, I'm tired,' or 'noooo, Simba, go play with Nala'." _

The golden figure fixed her with a demanding and dejected stare, perfectly illustrating his displeasure with her.

_"Urgh… Simba. Please. Go see your father—I'm sure he'll teach you a trick or two."_

The present Sarabi was saddened a bit at this revelation. Given the chance again, she would have willing spent every waking moment with him… but it was too late for that. The past was the past. There were no chances to amend it.

_"Mom… please… why are you lionesses always such killjoys?"_

_ "Such w-what?" _The lioness in the vision lifted her head, clearly unfamiliar with the word.

_"You know, a killjoy… You lionesses are always mopey and upset over something. Why can't you just be happy for once?"_

_ "Hmmm…" _the old Sarabi sighed desperately, "_Simba, you do not understand yet—you're too young. Life is more than just playing and tussling. Sacrifices have to be made… but do not worry about it. Enjoy your cubhood while you can, and do not pressure yourself so much with growing up…" _she spoke ruefully, perhaps even with a note of harshness in her voice. Simba lurched back a step, seemingly confused and dismayed.

_"Y-yeah, but…" _hepled, a note of whiny confusion entering his voice,_ "but D-dad always said that things… they g-get better tomorrow. So why worry so much about today?" _

He paused before continuing.

_"MOOOOOMMMMM! PLEASE! You're taking everything too seriously. Just show me something—it'll take only five minutes!"_

_ "Simba!" _Sarabi's voice rose for the first time, not so much because he needed to be chastised for ill behavior, but because she was too tired and frustrated to be lectured by a mere _cub_. "_For goodness' sakes, my child, go see your father!" _She set her head back down on her paws with a mild, yet clearly dismissive, growl, frustrated by his outlook and his constant questions. To the past Sarabi, there was too much of Simba… now, however, there was not enough. The present Sarabi watched, ashamed at herself and her forgotten past actions, as the cub cast her a sad look and walked off out of sight, ears dropping and head pointed downwards.

Sarabi almost wanted to run after him, to hold him and tell him that she was sorry, and that he was right… but that would have been hypocritical, for she realized something which appalled her: she was literally one step away from giving up. From not holding on until tomorrow. She looked down at the ledge, with the bottom far below, knowing that she would have died had she taken it. Only then did she rebuke herself, ashamed of her past actions.

She couldn't jump. It wasn't what Simba would have wanted, and she supposed she owed him that much. For not preventing his death. And for not spending enough time with him while he was still alive. She could not jump—she had to remain vigilant.

Finally, of course, she found Mufasa. His head drooped and his expression rueful. He was likely plagued with the same regretful thoughts, experiencing a similar pain as she, even if he didn't show it as profoundly. In that moment she saw him, realizing the love he had for his son before he had been taken away from them.

"I… I…"

She thought back to the times, however painful they were to reminisce on, when she and Mufasa and Simba had had a perfect, unobstructed life together. A time when everything and anything seemed possible in the midst of their content happiness. She could not cause him more pain…

"Mufasa…" she took a breath, bowing her head and closing her eyes in dignified silence, "… I forgive you."

The lion was too far away to hear her, the only trace of her he noticed in his languid state being the faint scent of her caught by a drift of wind… he looked up, but there was no one there. She was already gone.

_Sarabi…_

His brows furrowed and his face drooped with sadness. But the scent of his mate was not the only thing in the air. For, to the north, there was another, familiar scent his now heightened, aware senses could detect. One that left him shocked and shaken to his core as he sniffed, knowing of only one possible source it could have emanated from…

"_No… it cannot be…_"

* * *

><p><em>So, what do you guys think? What has Mufasa smelled in the gorge? Was it Scar, a hyena, or something else entirely? ;o And what of Askari's and Zamani's endeavor? How will that turn out? And which side is righteous - the hyenas or the lions?<em>

_Okay, I know: a lot of questions for such a short time. :s I tried to be careful with Sarabi's characterization here: after that blunder several chapters ago, I bluntly [with no subtlety at all] stated her illness as bipolar. However, we can chalk that up to a misdiagnosis on the part of the crazy old monkey...! XD Or maybe not - what do you guys think? What's really wrong with Sarabi? I suppose that's up to you. I tried to be more subtle this time around... better late than never. xp_

_Things seriously pick up soon - I'm excited. :3 There's a [dare I say it?] fight scene coming up in just a few chapters, and then the second part of this tale begins. I'm not saying anything else though, so hush. xD As always, review! Or, if you haven't already, go to my profile and vote on my poll: this one's about OCs. 6 people have already voted for their favorites. Nyota's in first, and Askari's a close second... but that could change. xD_

_See you all soon. ;)_

_Twin_


	23. Pride Cometh

_**A/N:**_

_*flails arms around like a drunken octopus* Hey, guess who just got so super-excited with this story that they had to come back again? Me, me, me, me! :D [After only 4 days or whatever it's been this time... looks like 5]. Here it is, a 3.5k word chapter with only 18 lines of dialogue... yes, I counted them. XD lolol But anyways, enough with the hyperness and nonsense. Review time. :p_

**_Reldor: _**_Honestly, Reldor, I swear... your infamous Reldorian speed is ridiculous. XD I looked at the views on this before it even showed up on the site [5 minutes or so after posting] and saw I had 1 view already on it. Wondering who it could possibly be, I guessed you... and then your review came up five minutes after that. XD Sometimes I wonder, do you just sit by your alerts and wait for things to update or something? lol_

**_pokeking95: _**_Wow, thanks for the review again. :D I'm glad you find the plot interesting now, and thank you for the nice compliment. Hoping you like this chapter. I know the discussion with Nyota may have seen filler-like, but it's semi-important next chapter. :3_

**_mom: _**_Wow, you did? O.o Honestly, I didn't think it would make anyone cry, or even really feel that sad... x.x Feelings and etc. aren't my forte, at least in my opinion. But I could be wrong. I dunno. lol_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Yes, someone is coming towards Mufasa. And someone [or perhaps the same entity] is also trying to find Scar. Who could they be? lol And I'm glad you like Askari. He's a good character to write for. :D_

**_Mykklaw: _**_I updated early again. XD Hehe. I couldn't stop. ;p And Zira... as Scar said before, she is a 'wild card'. There's no telling what she will do! You'll have to wait and see what she does. ;)_

**_A: _**_Thanks! Hope you read and enjoy the rest. ;)_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Wow, I guess that's saying something... considering that in Accidental Love you told me that you didn't like 'feelings'. lolol And okay, I saw it on this random Youtube video called "100 memes in some-amount-of-minutes-I-don't-remember", among other things. XD I'm assuming it's an animted anime courtroom drama? Or am I totally wrong here? lol I'm not an anime/manga person. And ah, I see. x) I'm sad to say that I haven't watched ATLA in forever. x.x And I should PM you soon anyways, so I'll reread it and give advice. :p_

_Since **TheTrueJuliet **was too slow to review Chapter 22 before I updated, we will now all have cake in her absence. Chocolate cake for all! If she asks any of you where you got it, just say it's for my half-birthday on Saturday. ;p_

* * *

><p>It was dusk. Twilight. The hazy time whereupon the sun retreats from the horizon and snuffs out its light until the next day. A time of quiet and sleep, for regeneration and rest. At least, it was for most of the residents: the nocturnal residents, who were just waking from their slumbers, were excluded from this… as was—on this particular night, anyhow—the small, dark form of a cub walking through the savanna.<p>

He blended in quite well amongst the shadows, and the deliberate scent-masking plant he had rolled around in had only served to make him more undetectable as he prowled, searching… There were few animals in his way, and those that were, such as a few random giraffes and some zebra, took flight at his presence as they tried to find a safe place to sleep.

Fortunately for them, however, Taka was too young and small and inexperienced to be able to hunt one of them.

Of course, that was unfortunate for him, as that was the whole reason he was out in the first place… but, in the place of hunting, he had to be smart in order to get what he wanted. Thusly, his mind had come up with something more… unconventional. Poaching. Of course, it was not fitting for a lion—especially a prince and a brother to the future king—to steal the kills from other animals, but he cared not for such nuances at the moment. He may have still been pretty small, with only the tuft of mane growing and small teeth and claws, but he was still quite confident that he could force a young cheetah to give up her kill if he appeared threatening enough.

The lion cub sighed, just the smallest bit ashamed. Normally, he was the cute, innocent little younger brother which all the older lionesses loved. The gentle one who followed the rules. Alas, they didn't know about his small, occasional excursions at night. His quests for a vulture-picked meal… and chances were they never would. Of course, a few moons ago, he wouldn't have considered it. But such was life. And what the pride did not know would not hurt them, after all.

Besides, there were other things, other sources of impetus for what he did… most notably, Mufasa. Ever since he had been deemed king—a revelation which, at the time, hadn't bothered him much—both his brother and his father were gone, commencing in kingly training and other such things which Taka did not really understand. The absence of both his playmate and the king, as well as the fact that, at his young age, he was discouraged from going more than short distances alone, more or less rendered him bound to the same spot at Pride Rock. And, of course, it was never good to keep a playful and intelligent cub holed up in the same place all day, for he inevitably got bored and tried to have some fun. His originally simple designs had become more and more complex over time, and the lionesses were often told to keep an eye on him to ensure his safety. Inevitably, though, they would get distracted, whereupon he could find a way to sneak past them and raise trouble in some little escapade or another.

This, however, was much more serious than sneaking out with Sarabi to scare animals at the water hole, or anything of that sort. Poaching was, in fact, a serious rule, and one which his father had every intention of enforcing. For when it came to the law, Ahadi was notoriously strict and dogmatic, following it to the very letter… especially when that law happened to be a tradition or otherwise handed down from the ancestors. Indeed, at the head of potential drought, poaching had become more and more of an issue, with hyenas and wild dogs usually being the culprits. What frustrated the king most, however, was the fact that the poachers were nearly always gone by the time he got to the scene. Even if Zazu informed the king about poachers immediately, it was almost impossible to do anything about it, especially when it was near the Outlands and it took him a long while to get there. By then, only some bones and skin and blood were left, the stench of a rotting carcass blotting out any scents of the perpetrators. The only time he could catch them was when they were desperate or impudent enough to commit their act under the king's theoretical doorstep at Pride Rock.

That was what worried Taka the most—the fact that his father was so strict in his dealings with poachers. Perhaps the only thing which soothed and consoled him was the fact that he had done so a couple of times already, and got had gotten off clean and with no suspicion attached to him. The chances of Ahadi finding him out in the savanna at night were slim to nil anyways.

Indeed, the absence of his father didn't exactly make the crime _right_… but he was desperate enough to go through with it. And as long as he didn't get caught, he could continue to steal…

Perhaps the only worse thing he could do was take from the pantry—that, however, would be far too obvious.

He prowled across the savanna, feeling hungry to the point of almost being sick. Ever since his appointment as king, Mufasa always seemed to come home from his training tired and with a fierce appetite kindled. Considering the fact that it had been hard before to contend with Mufasa for the scraps the huntresses and the king didn't want, now it was nearly impossible. He usually had to be content with a few bits of bone marrow or gristle. Perhaps the only time he could eat unperturbed was when the king was in a good enough mood to let Mufasa or even Taka eat with him. That happened rarely.

As petty as it sounded, it was having a profound effect on the both of them. The eldest, Mufasa—who was already strong and muscular to begin with—now boasted an impressive coat and set of muscles, while his younger brother had grown even more lithe and wiry.

Taka hated thinking about it. How he was the one forced to pry the savanna for food. The only thing that made him feel content with what he had undertaken was the fact that he was justified to do so. His parents were generally too tired at the end of the day to mediate between the two brothers, and they probably thought that, at this moment, he was asleep in the den with the other cubs and Mufasa.

He crawled through the savanna grass, the scent of fresh meat to his left. Taking another whiff, he didn't smell any trace of hyena or a large group of predators. There was only a slight, foreign scent mixed in to hint at the hunter's identity. Taka perked up—that was what he was looking for. Without dawdling further, he made his way towards with a light step, peeking through the grass…

A fresh antelope carcass lay there, almost as though someone had killed it just for him. Somewhat confused, Taka cocked his brow and looked to the left… and then the right…

No one.

He saw no reason why he shouldn't dig into it immediately—and, as such, he did so, cutting the carcass apart with his small, relatively ineffective claws. The process took a good long while, as was expected from a cub his size. Blood caked his paws and matted his dark fur, leaving messy splatters across the ground and his body. The meat, roughly lacerated though it was, still emanated the last remnants of warmth from the recently killed animal, and was free of the maggots and parasites which would have been expected of a less-fresh repast.

Already ravenous, the lion was promptly about to dig into the carcass and eat… but he suddenly pricked his ears and lifted his head up guiltily, wariness written into his face as the grass and shrubs began rustling. His face fell, and all he could hope was that it wasn't his father: the overwhelming scent of the kill blotted out and overpowered most of his senses, including his faculties of smell.

"_Who are you? What do you think you're doing?_"

A she-cheetah emerged from the blanket of dry, crinkling brush, her face twisted into an angry wrathful snarl around the small, wet bundle of fur she was carrying in her jaws. Somewhat frightened, the small, pitiable creature—a blind cheetah cub, from the looks of things—weakly turned its head and mewled loudly. Another, older progeny emerged from the grass at his mother's left flank, countenance also contorted into a wrought, offended expression. He looked to be slightly older than Taka: however, his small and lithe cheetah build still rendered him much weaker than the scrawny lion.

Taka knew he had to be prepared for this. Unsheathing his claws, he bared his fangs in a similar fashion, ready to defend what he had procured whether it was rightfully his or not.

"That's none of your business."

"It is when you're _taking _food from me and my kits," she snapped back, absolutely no hint of humor in her voice. Taka was unsure about whether or not he could fend this cheetah off, though he didn't show it. Besides, he was still lucky. He could have wound up facing a pack of hungry wild dogs or even hyenas. "Do you know how long it's been since we've eaten anything but scraps? Move aside, _cub_."

The cheetah didn't appear all that afraid of him, probably due to his age and diminutive size. She seemed more ready to castigate him than to fight him, almost as though unsure of what the cub was doing there or whether he posed a threat at all. He looked vaguely familiar…

"_I'm sorry, alright? I'm hungry, too_." He snarled flatly as he offered her a weak justification of his actions, looking at her with a vaguely suppliant tone. His stomach growled and he grimaced inwardly, the supple light of the moon and stars shining off his ruffled pelt. The vague outline of his ribs was visible through it… through the scant covering of his fur and flesh.

His intent was clearly to evoke the pity of the mother cheetah, as any way to avoid a fight was, especially considering his size, preferable. Besides, Taka had never been much for violent, open fighting like his brother had been. He didn't like the idea of hurting or killing another... and his clever, active mind was more suited to subtle ruses and deft tricks than blunt shows of force.

A little bit of moonlight shone through the clouds, briefly lighting up Taka's face and features. He squinted slightly and turned away, irritated by the sudden change in lighting. He finally lifted up his paw to shield himself from it, but by then it was, unbeknownst to him, too late. The cheetah finally placed his identity: he was the prince of the Pridelands, and the king's youngest son. With a slight smirk, she looked to Pride Rock, which glistened in the background. And, just like that, she was gone, her two young with her.

Taka looked back from behind his paw, not having seen them leave with the trademark quickness of their species. Shrugging quietly, he assumed that his ploy must have worked, and silently turned back to his meal. He flicked his tail in satisfaction, thrusting his muzzle into the body and effectively covering it with blood. The little lion ate zealously, hardly savoring the taste of it as he tried to cram himself with as much as possible, as quickly as possible. Besides, who knew when he would get such a chance again, and so easily?

Of course, in his preoccupation, he'd failed to notice the strong scent of the rapidly approaching figures from Pride Rock… The overwhelming, pungent odor had permeated everywhere around him, masking anything else from his detection. Even the sound of footsteps was inaudible under the crunching and growling and smacking.

It wasn't until he heard the voice of the cheetah again that he knew something was awry.

"_… See, Sire! _I wouldn't lie to you! He's right here!"

Taka turned around suddenly, stiffly… his ears drooped and he looked up with terror, unable to produce a convincing expression to feign his innocence. Besides, he'd been caught red-handed… and red-muzzled too—the blood from the kill was everywhere.

"He came and took it from me!"

The cub stopped entirely, unable to do anything but stare into the angry eyes of his father. King Ahadi looked down on his son in return, clearly ashamed. A prince, stealing? It was unthinkable. No prince he could think of had done so—not his uncle, or his father, or his grandfather… and certainly not his other son, Mufasa.

"… Do you have anything to say for yourself, Taka?"

Though now sorry for his actions, the lion remained silent, only backing away in fear of what he was going to do. Never before had he found himself in so serious a situation, and never did he think that his father would actually learn of it. He'd half-expected his actions to be without repercussions, like most of his other, more innocent sojourns… but this time was different. He'd done something illicit.

Seeing that he wasn't going to say anything, Ahadi turned to the cheetah.

"I'm dearly sorry for this, madam. If it's any consolation, you may have the rest of what you've caught, and may come to dine with the huntresses tomorrow. However, if you'd give me a moment, I'd like to dole out a… lesson… on my son." He gave Taka a grave look as the cheetah promptly nodded assent and left, her and her older son quietly dragging the carcass elsewhere. And then they were alone.

The young cub gulped, attempting to back up and escape his father's coming wrath… but he knew it was useless.

_"Taka, _how could you do such an act? And of noble blood, too… I am ashamed of you."

"… I know," he squeaked softly and mildly, sitting down and feeling small as he ducked his head.

"You broke a law! Why, you think that just because I'm not around, that it's okay to do these things?" His voice rose profoundly, doing nothing to quell his small son's fear.

"I know, I'm sorry, Father," Taka shirked again, now trying to explain himself, "… it's just that you and Muffy are gone all the time… and I was hungry… and I… I… I'm sorry," he repeated.

"_A lot of animals are hungry! _Like that cheetah—you don't think she was hungry? You've no right, prince though you may be, to _steal _from her and her kits. And Mufasa? You don't think he's ever been hungry? Why, he'd never do such a thing!" The king barked the words out relentlessly on his son, filling him with a deep pool of shame and regret. Indeed, at the mention of his brother's name, he was rendered unable to pent up the tears which had been hot and brimming at the edge of his eyes. This, of course, only exacerbated his indignity.

"But… Father…"

"_QUIET! There's no excuse for this!_" he reprimanded his son sharply, his fangs now bared in a sharp grimace. Taka had no choice but to obey, cowering before the great and terrible figure of his father. His father who, unknown to him, was acting out of his own shame… and his own desire to protect him. Actions like this could not be tolerated. Unsheathing his claws, he smacked his son harshly, drawing blood as his claws raked across his body. The small cub slid across the ground, eyes closed in pain and fear. Ahadi lifted his paw again, knowing that he must castigate his son, no matter how much it hurt him. It was the law.

But then he stopped, having second thoughts as he prepared to hit the perpetrator again. Despite this incident, Taka was still a gentle soul. He wasn't fighting back, nor rebelling. He was lying there placidly, prepared to take his punishment. Seeing this, the king put his paw down in dismay… the cub was remorseful. His judgment told him that that was enough. Growling slightly, he nudged his son's side, which had been cut by his own sharp claws and was now dripping with slow streams of warm blood. Taka stirred and looked up at him distrustfully, still terrorized and unwilling to get up or move further. For the most part, he looked unharmed.

"… Get up, son." He spoke in a much calmer tone, attempting to incite the cub to his feet. Taka obeyed blankly, and Ahadi drew him close to his foreleg. The younger lion's chest was still heaving, heart pounding with fright… and indeed, he appeared somewhat distant. He didn't nuzzle him or lean against his father's warm fur. The scare he had just had shocked him too much… for his father beat him rarely, and never quite like that.

"I'm sorry, Taka. But you deserved it. Poachers must be punished—it's the law. You're lucky it wasn't worse; you could have been hurt…" He paused, looking towards the sky absently. No response from his son.

"And no leaving Pride Rock until the next full moon, do you hear me?" He looked sternly at his son, who only appeared to look at the ground sadly. "I hope you learned a lesson from this… Come, let's go home."

Ahadi picked Taka up by the scruff, and they walked silently back to Pride Rock.

* * *

><p>Scar stirred himself awake from his light, hazy sleep, still exhausted and dissatisfied. Alas, most of his cat instincts told him to simply roll over and spend the next few hours in a deep, languorous slumber… but he couldn't afford to. Travel by night under the moon, a few hours of rest under the heat of the sun—that was what was required of him now, as it was most discreet. He clambered to his feet smoothly, a yawn momentarily distorting his features and pleasuring him with a calm, relaxed aura. For a moment he remained there, relaxed and placid, before heaving a distressed sigh and heading outside.<p>

The lion had spent the morning in the shady back of a grotto—one of many which littered the edge of the nebulous gorge. Thick, ominous stalactites clung to the ceiling from which they hung, giving the cave a dark and looming aura. Although their presence was relatively unsettling, it was safe in the back, where the top of the cavern sloped more profoundly and most of them were unable to grow… rather like scraggly plants on the sheer surfaces of a mountainside.

Nonetheless, all of this observance was merely kindled by the distracted absent-mindedness of his reverie, which inevitably drew from a slight sense of curiosity. After a few moments, however, he was finally ready to set out and head south. Without further ado, he left the cave without a second glance and continued, the winds of the night rushing through the normally stagnant and torpid-aired expanse of the gorge. His fur bristled somewhat—tonight was going to be a cold one.

His travels thus far had been relatively uneventful, though he could only wonder how long that would last. In light of the fact that things could, and did, often change in a single moment, he remained wary and kept to the shadows, his pace quick and his awareness of his surroundings piqued.

The going here was significantly easier, at least as far as traversing the gorge went. For, considering its size and relative deviation from its surroundings, it was very conspicuous and in fact a large landmark of the Pridelands. Its origins came from erosion, for it was originally the site of a river. To the north, in fact, it still was. A gentle, burbling brook—brimming from a rare, local spring in the midst of the Outlands—flowed downwards, gradually amassing more and more water as it went. It continued like that, growing as it progressed, through a majority of the Pridelands. Indeed, Scar had passed by the river on his way into the enormous ravine: as of now, however, it was plugged up by a massive, natural dam, forming a reservoir. During the dry season, it received snowmelt from Mount Kilimanjaro, and during the wet season there was more than enough rainwater for it to maintain its size. Making his way down the edges was somewhat risky, especially with the distraction of the herds who had adopted the temporary lake as a waterhole… but it was still manageable. The hard part had been traversing the sheer drop about midway through, once host to a magnificent waterfall. From there, it was theoretical smooth sailing. All he had to do was continue to the southern end of the gorge where he had started the stampede and then navigate the adjacent flat, open grassland… after that, he would arrive at the jungles.

This clear definition of a goal, and the knowledge that the worst of the traveling was behind him, sparked considerable hope within him. Surely it wouldn't be hard to get to his destination. He smiled slightly at the thought, a small simper which embodied his temporarily high spirits. Yes, yes… he could live. Safety, dignity, the ability to leave his past and live like a vagabond until he could take the throne for good… it was all right there in the jungle. His ears pricked and his pace quickened again, this time out of excitement instead of simple cautiousness. For, although he knew that he should retain his discretion in the midst of the shadows, it was hard to repel the overwhelming feeling of invincibility that came over him. The pride as he walked about in the moonlight, the wind at his back and his nose ignorant to the rapidly approaching enemies from all sides. From the danger closing in around him.

Indeed, it is said that pride cometh before a fall—and yes, Scar did fall. For that very maxim was about to be smacked into him… by the darkened emergence of a blurred, silhouetted creature from the midst of the night. A creature leaping towards him, barely visible from the corner of his eye and not noticed until too late…

* * *

><p><em>Another cliffhanger! Gasp! To quote Bugs Bunny: "ain't I a stinker?" ;D Hehehe. Ah, Scar... your pride and greed got you into trouble not once, but twice in this chapter. xD Not that I love you any less for it. :p And I bet you all thought he was going to get his scar this chapter, didn't you? *evil troll face* Nope, not yet!<em>

_In any case, don't expect the silence from me to last too long! For next chapter is the chapter of all chapters thus far - it's what you've been waiting for! Nothing held back, no filler or anything: just action! I__f you haven't done so already, add this to your alerts list - you won't want to miss it! :D_

_Adios, y vayan con Dios! (If you don't know what that means, look it up XD)_

_Twin (:_


	24. Chaos Factions I

**_A/N:_**

_Well, I'm back again, with the first part of the long-awaited first climax! Of course, I didn't plan for it to be another two-parter... but this thing was long as it was and so I'm splitting it in half. A schism of words, I guess you could call it. XD In any case, it'll be interesting to see how you all react to this - judging by the reviews I received, it doesn't look like anyone correctly guessed the identity of Scar's attacker (darn cliffhangers!), so you may be in for a surprise. :D Of course, a review always helps, so be sure to mention how you took this... *nudge nudge* ;) Speaking of reviews..._

**_Reldor: _**_Well, you just did it again, so I'm inclined to believe you... XD I kid, I kid. Of course no one stares at their email all day. :p You're just... unnaturally fast, I guess. x) lol And maybe - you'll have to see what Sarabi does when she comes into this... hehe. xD_

**_pokeking95: _**_Yeah, I was worried that it would feel out of place there... but I guess not. XD And I don't know, I personally figured that making Ahadi abusive and one-sided was a little too clear-cut for me, and at this point I wouldn't want to oversimplify characterization for the sake of time. Pues, está bien: tu español aparece correcto. :p Lo tengo aquí- disfruta! Oh, y fuí __a respondar a tu PM, pero olvidé... Rrrr... e.e Vendrá pronto. _

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Yes, I saw your update, though I have yet to read it. x.o I'll get caught up asap. :D I tried to hurry with this one, and this is what I came up with. And you'll see how he got his scar sometime in the future - in the meantime, some more brother-on-brother interaction is coming reaaaaaal soon. ;)_

**_Tamagokura: _**_Yeah, that was one of the earlier chapters, and I didn't plan very well at the beginning. :/ Looking at it now, I suppose Nala is playing a smaller part in the story than she should... I suppose I'll have to add her back in one of these days. :3_

**_mom: _**_Thanks for the review. :) Yes, it made sense. Of course, I'm trying to figure out how to get around that... but I'm pretty sure I've got these next few chapters under pretty tight control (in theory, at least... XD)._

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Thanks again for your review. :) And that was exactly what I was going for - trying to show that Scar was slowly becoming more disgruntled over the rules and how things worked. Of course, it only gets worse with time... :p Hope you like this chapter too!_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Wow... XD I can't really see you as the squeaking type, but if you say so, then that's good. :D Hehe, it's nice when readers react the way you want. *evil face* I can control your mind! Hahahaha! ... No, I kid, I kid. :p *high-fives* Happy belated anniversary for joining this site, and nice job finishing Wazimu already. XD Hehe... guess it's kind of funny that I've already been here for nearly a year, even though I don't see this fic's end in the near future. x) lol_

_Enjoy the chappie, everyone! :D_

* * *

><p><em>Wham!<em>

A figure knocked into the lone lion from the side, a harsh thud being heard as two paws collided with his flank. He barely had time to even stiffen in surprise, the force of the collision being sufficient to knock him against the rocky edge of the ravine. He spun around, trying to find his attacker, but there was nothing visible. Only the murky, thick edges of absolute darkness. He squinted and then moved around, hoping to see something—a blur, a glint, a bit of fur… anything. But there was nothing.

_Whack!_

He suddenly felt the sting of several sharp claws on his face, causing him to turn and twist his countenance into an expression of pain. The lion swiped back blindly, but missed. Whatever, or whoever it was, it was gone again… hidden and camouflaged by the black hue of the surroundings. Of course, this was not surprising considering the shape, the size, the… _shade_… of his assailant's identity. For several moments all was silent, and Scar tensed, knowing that he would doubtlessly be attacked again.

_Scuff!_

The slight, almost undetectable sound of an ill-timed footfall caused his ears to prick. He swiveled around, and then waited a moment before letting his paw again sail through the air, claws extended as they always were.

_Smack!_

His swipe connected, causing a leonine yowl to be emitted from the other being. He could feel the warm blood across his claws, the momentary feeling of triumph… before the figure disappeared again without a trace. Scar's green eyes searched the night, hoping to discover something enlightening about this sudden attack… Again he heard an offbeat scrap of a limb, though he could not pinpoint its location. Not until the creature attacked him openly, a fierce snarl being released as it rammed straight into him and knocked him over. For a moment he lay across the ground in a heap, dazed, foreign claws pressing into the nape of his neck and a slight, arrogant chuckle breaking through the air.

Alas, this was all too familiar. He tried to look up at his aggressor's face and glean their identity, but it was to no avail. It was too dark, and he _was _being shoved nose-first into the ground. But, in spite of all this, he was quite certain that he knew who it was already…

He growled threateningly, refusing to be intimidated, but could not loosen the grip placed on him. And so it was that he relaxed momentarily, muscles going slack as he gave in to his captor… before he suddenly and harshly brought back his entire arm, elbowing his foe squarely in the face. Indeed, it wasn't much—he probably wouldn't end up doling out much more than a bloody nose—but it was enough. With a surprised, indignant growl, his assailant withdrew back slightly, and it was all too easy to break the grip on him as he rolled over quickly and then got to his feet, making sure to turn rapidly and face his attacker…

Scar snarled harshly, hints of a growing and imminent roar present as he stared down _her_… His aggressor backed up in apparent shock, exposing herself to the scarce, scant moonlight shining down the very center of the gorge.

It was a lioness: that much was for certain. Her build in particular was that of an older individual, though one not weighed down or hindered by infirmity or senescence. Tough, rugged muscle covered her limbs and frame, and it was clear by her build, by the look in her eyes, and by her very motives that she was a huntress at heart. Stark and aggressive, tail lashing in impatience and excitement. She was baring her teeth, as was characteristic of her in such a situation, and a growl was forming in her throat as she looked at him with reflective eyes. Her lips were pulled back, with wet, gleaming fangs showing amidst the blood now dripping profusely from her nostrils. The crimson liquid also emitted off a kind of bright brilliance and was clearly visible, making her entire countenance look crazed and lusting for blood… almost as though she were rabid. Dark eyes narrowed, ears flattened, claws pulled out—yes, she indeed was thirsting for something. And, as always, all of her body was covered in the same coat of beautiful, rippling fur. A black shade which complemented the moonlight, the white highlights of which contrasted completely with all of her surroundings. There was no mistaking her: not now.

"Scar."

She addressed him with a rough, raspy voice, a dreadful smile parting her lips. The lioness didn't appear afraid of his threats at all, instead proceeding with a simple and rather condescending security.

"Usiku."

He responded in the same manner, sending her a threatening growl as she tried to step closer. She chuckled indolently and in seeming amusement, unfazed.

"_Hm-hm-hm_… how have you been?"

Scar rolled his eyes and grunted imperceptibly.

"Ah, yes, you see… it's been a pretty good day running for my life." His expression suddenly changed, revealing a hostile and irritated inner demeanor. "Cease with the small talk—what do you want, you indelible cretin? Were you not content to leave me to the hyenas to die?"

"Oh, please. You actually thought those incompetent fools would succeed in killing you? Because_ I'd _say they did a pretty lousy job of putting you out of the picture… wouldn't you agree, girls?"

Several lionesses retreated from hiding in the shadows, sleazy grins spread across their maws as they stepped into line behind their leader. The lion huffed, suddenly overwhelmed… couldn't he last five peaceful seconds without being jumped or nearly mauled to death?

"… I should have known that you would be back…"

"Haha_ha!_" she burst out suddenly, lowering her head as laughter briefly overtook her, "well, let's not give me all the credit for tracking you down, foolish vagabond!"

"And to _what _are you referring?"

"Well, let's just say a little _bird _told us. A young bird with a stripe down her forehead! Why, what was her name? Zuri? Zuzu?"

"Zira?" a voice offered timidly.

"That's the one! She led us right to you!"

Scar looked at her intensely for a moment, inadvertently allowing a fearful, questioning glare to show for but a second. Usiku smiled, noticing his hesitance to believe it… even though he had suspected it from the very beginning. What he wondered, above all, was _how_… how could she have possibly known where he was? Hadn't he been cautious enough? Hadn't he effectively shooed her away?

"Face it, Scar—you've been betrayed. And now you're in the paws of us… the paws of _justice_…"

A few lionesses chortled at this comment, apparently having changed their fickle minds to reflect a slavish adherence to _this _dogmatic lioness. He looked at them closely: the loosely-gathered band of renegades. And they were doing this in the name of justice? Just how deluded were they?

"_Well_," he began after a slight pause, trying to move on from Zira and regain his self-control, "I apologize, O High and Mighty. _Clearly_ I have injured you in some way… so go on, exact justice on a prince, and avenge the death of a cub who I know for a fact you never even liked…"

The lion showed his fangs in attempted wrath, brows furrowing as he finished his sentence.

"You idiot…" she seethed, "this isn't about Simba! You see, it's about the king, Mu—"

"_**MUFASA**_!" a voice interrupted. Scar and Usiku both stopped, the former cocking his eyebrow in confusion… until, of course, it all became clear... at least to Scar, who stopped and stood in horror.

"_Yes, _Mufasa." She continued in a reprimanding tone. "Of course I mean Mufasa!"

"_No!_" the voice emphatically corrected, "Mufasa!"

"AAAAAH!"

Several shrill screams were heard as the king suddenly appeared, having jumped from his place of invisibility amongst the rocks and the darkness. An earth-shattering, blood-curdling roar racked the gorge, causing even Usiku and Scar to try and seek safety. The rest scattered, tripping over themselves and each other as the angry, bristling form of the king paced about, looking offended and ready to dole out punishment.

"_Halt! _Stand your ground!" Usiku called to the confused and routing lionesses. Some turned back and heeded her call—others, however, proceeded to run into the murky darkness, now having second thoughts…

Scar only crept about slowly, petrified and unable to make out his surroundings or direction of travel in the midst of the tumultuous pandemonium. He tried to make a subtle exit, but the sudden arrival of about a score of lionesses brought that possibility to a screeching halt. Nyota, still injured though she was at the shoulder, picked her way delicately and sure-footedly through the navigable passage of stones, with Sarafina and several others behind her.

The arrival of the lionesses, oddly enough, seemed to provoke less chaos than Mufasa's arrival. In fact, it quickly brought order. Scar, realizing escape was futile, stayed in place… and Usiku and her more zealous lionesses stood their ground and stopped tussling and running about.

"Usiku! What is the meaning of this?" Nyota called in a harsh tone, as if scolding her. Her words, while not very intimidating, calmed the situation down and brought the throng of new lionesses even closer behind her.

"I will not answer to _you_, Nyota," Usiku looked at her disdainfully, a hint of mockery in her voice. "I'd like to answer to Mufasa, if he would kindly stop his ceaseless raging and take a moment to listen to one of his own subjects."

Nyota looked indignant, annoyed at how she was dismissed so easily. However, she kept silent… and her eyes turned together with the lionesses. All in unison looked towards Mufasa, who was huffing and snorting in an attempt to contain himself.

"You fool…" he finally spoke up. "What do you think you're doing here? With _him_?" He motioned towards Scar, who froze in his quiet tracks and looked up, not wanting to be a part of this conversation for fear of what would happen.

"Well, excuse me for wanting to take matters into my own hands. For you see, if we can't trust you to kill or even _exile _a murderer who attacked you and your family, how could we expect you to protect any of us?" Usiku spat basely, glowering eyes glowing in the moonlight as she stared fixedly at him. Nods and murmurs of assent followed. She _did _have a point, several of the more confused individuals thought silently to themselves.

"I'm right here, you sick and deluded lioness." The dark lion couldn't help but add from the side, flustered at her presence and ready to join in her persecution. Many of the lionesses eyed him warily, though the youngest of them seemed to silence the group with a stare that implored them to keep themselves together.

Mufasa roared quickly, silencing them all and gathering their attention—even Nyota, lucky enough to not be the object of Mufasa's focused wrath, quivered slightly at his outburst. When he resumed speaking, however, he looked calmer. Which wasn't saying much.

"So, you play a traitor in order to catch a traitor, do you? Gather up all these lionesses, against my knowledge?"

"_Hmptt_," she scoffed, "you know the truth, Mufasa. You spare Scar because he is your brother—you know it to be true. If he wasn't, we both know you would have killed him long ago." She moved closer, a gleam in her eyes as she approached him, almost looking pleasant. Of course, she was to focused on him, and was unaware of the silent treading of feet as she gained a few more followers in the night. Nyota frowned in desperation.

"Stop this nonsense! How dare you rise up and question your king—you don't even know what this is about!" He approached her in turn, staring her down in an uncharacteristic show of dominance and fury. Usiku smiled.

"You're corrupt, Mufasa. You and all of your _weak _lionesses," Usiku looked at Nyota on the word weak. "… And you know it. That's why you exiled the hyenas, too."

Scar cringed, knowing that that was the absolute wrong thing to say. If he were Usiku… well, he would have said anything but that. And surely enough, it seemed to strike a nerve in Mufasa, who roared for a third time and bared his fangs at her. The younger brother tensed, awaiting his verdict and what would be done to the impetuous lioness, if only out of careful caution and concern for his own safety in this rather odd, tight predicament…

"ENOUGH! Out!" he lunged forwards, red mane flying like a flickering flame as he took his step, making sure he was well-understood. "You and all of your lionesses, out of the Pridelands! And don't come back, you troublemaking rascal!"

Usiku stared forwards calmly, reveling in the rather ironic point she had made. For exile did not trouble her in the slightest—she was a rogue at heart, and had long been growing weary of the pride she had found herself a part of. Some of the lionesses, however, looked shocked.

"Mufasa…" Nyota spoke gently, whispering in his ear as he silently seethed. "Surely, you don't need to exile all of them. Doesn't that seem a bit harsh…? It's unlike you."

"Well, what would you have?" He responded, eyes still fixed on his dissenting, somewhat rebellious ex-pride members.

"At least try to let me talk to them."

Mufasa glanced at her a moment, well aware of her tendency and reputation of talking sense. Casting his eyes between the young lioness and the rueful followers of Usiku, he relented with a wordless growl.

She looked briefly at them, hating to see the lionesses—some of whom were her friends—forced out of the land so ignominiously. Several times she tried to start, tried to say something… but the words never left her. In the end, all she could muster was a weak and desperate plea.

"Please, all of you… come on. Don't do this… don't go into exile. Have you already forgotten how our king ruled before all of this happened? How fair and kind he was?" Scar scoffed almost silently from his corner. "He's only trying to do what's right… so have sense. Don't divide the pride in the time we need you the most."

A pause followed, the lionesses muttering words. Some of them indeed turned back from Usiku's would-be pride—many of them the same lionesses who had moved not a minute prior—and stood thoughtlessly with them, backs turned to Mufasa as they waited, seemingly unsure of themselves. Nyota continued with her final thoughts, honestly out of words to say as the rest of Usiku's group stood determined, unfazed by whatever it was she was saying. It was clear she was bothered by something.

"He's in pain, don't you see? His judgment is foggy… memories…" she stuttered almost incoherently, seemingly on the verge of tears, "alone in the world, struggling to find a place. Crying out at night for his lost brother, his lost mate…" Mufasa looked at her solemnly, surprised by the profoundness of her words. Indeed, Sarabi was nowhere to be found… but how had she noticed that?

"And most of all, his lost and smothered… mother…"

A pause followed.

"What?" One of the more astute lionesses queried, the dark lioness' followers markedly unimpressed and shaking their heads. Nyota, unaware that she had even mixed up her speech or said anything out of place, only stared on longingly. She said no more, even as Usiku and the others lined up and prepared to leave, steadfast and with their minds set. The remainders knew the consequences of their actions, and were not afraid of either banishment or the death that would await them if they returned.

Mufasa sighed, his rage slowly dissolving as time passed and the rational part of his mind saddened to know that—whether he was previously conscious of it or not—he had somehow failed the pride. His worst fears were coming true: he was losing the will to rule, now that Simba was gone and he had no heir or son. Indeed, many would not return to rest with him that night, and the cave would be even emptier than it already felt. He looked to Nyota, nodding at the youth in commendation. However, she barely noticed his gesture, evidently caught up in her own introspection as everything else blurred around her…

And finally his grieving, angry mind turned to Scar, who was once again attempting to sneak away in the moonlight. The younger brother froze like a frightened gazelle in his tracks, an odd and contemplative stare on his face. Mufasa bared his fangs purposefully, before turning back to the lionesses.

"If you all would excuse me," his regal voice spoke up in seeming relaxation, commanding their attention with a rough clearing of his throat, "I'd like to _speak_ with my brother a moment… You all go home: I'll be back by dawn."

The gathering of lionesses nodded solemnly, disappointed and confused about what had happened that night. Each of them turned and unenthusiastically obeyed the orders of their king, whether they wanted to or not, slowly padding up the ways they had come. A few moments passed, the two brothers seemingly waiting in anticipation as they departed—one in growing fear and apprehension, and the other in secret, stalking wrath…

It was when the last lioness was out of sight and they were alone that Mufasa finally advanced on his brother, fangs bared and vaguely vengeful. For _he _had inevitably caused all this to happen, and the schism of the pride was yet another one of the burdens which could inevitably be traced back and attached to his bony, already guilt-ridden shoulders. He sent him a warning growl, Scar backing against the wall of the gorge as his fur bristled in fright. Unable to think of anything to deflect his brother's impending arrival, he desperately uttered the first thing that came to mind.

"_Ah, _Mufasa. Thank you, dearest brother. It was oh, so very _noble_ of you to come to my aid. You see, I was actually worried for a minute there… hehe…" he chuckled nervously, a slight grin coming to his face as he attempted to toy with him. To see what his reaction would be. But, much to his dismay, Mufasa's face hardened: the opposite of what he wanted. The larger lion approached, and Scar could tell he was serious.

"Oh, Scar…" he growled softly, "don't thank me yet."

* * *

><p><em>Yep, that's right... not a single one of you mentioned Usiku in your review. :p Not that I blame you. Although Nyota DID say she was missing a few chapters back, in case you don't remember... XD Hehehe. And what do you think is going to happen with Mufasa and Scar? Do you see conflict in their future or not? And of course, there are other unsolved mysteries as well - feel free to ponder them in a review. <em>

_Or, if you're too shy, you can just fave and follow, considering you've read this far. ;) I get it. _

_See you all for the (hopefully epic) next chapter! :D_

_Vayan con Dios!_

_Twin (:_


	25. Chaos Factions II

_**A/N: **_

_Hey everyone. :p I'm going to apologize in advance for taking so long, even though you guys are presumably okay with it. I was a bit busier and creatively blocked than I would have liked. So enjoy this fairly long, 3.5k+ chapter, and part 2/3 of the epic first climax. XD That's right, there's even more to come... I just couldn't wait longer and this is already long. Next part wraps it up though, so stay tuned. :D_

_Review time._

**_pokeking95: _**_Yeah, I suppose I didn't do much to Usiku early on. Originally she was just a name, and then a minor character, so I didn't do much other than extrapolate on why I picked her name. So I don't think she really made an impact on anyone the first time around. Expect to see her more though... and Zira. You'll have to see where Zira comes in. :p Y sí, comenta como quieres. No me molesta - es buen practica. :D_

**_Reldor: _**_Yep, he's mad, alright. But Scar is a smart lion. Besides, I don't think Mufasa is the only one he should be worried about in the 'owning' department. lol_

**_mom: _**_Well, that was backstory about Mufasa to some extent... but Nyota actually slipped up with her words a bit. You'll see what I mean later. :3 And he will show up again eventually. No hyena would willingly miss out on free cake! (Or, in this case, mayhem! XD)_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Yep, the thickest part so far. :D And speaking of thick plots... I'm going to go read "secret tunnel, secret tunnel" now. :p Did you see my review? x.x I've only left one so far, but Christmas break is coming up so I'll be able to get to it soon. Yay for violence and stuff! XD_

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Hehe, thanks. Glad that surprised you. :p Hope you like this chapter too... XD I also apologize for the sheer quantity of cliifhangers. I simply have no other way of ending the chapter sometimes, at least in my opinion. xp_

_**theAnGerFlarE: **Thanks for that. :D I hope you keep reading - it's nice to see new people coming into this and reviewing. :p Enjoy. _

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_To be honest, I was kind of scratching my head and wondering where you were because I've gotten so used to your reviews. XD lol Anyways, I saw Brother and read it this morning. :p It seems like it's off to a good start, so I hope you continue. Hehe. And I tried to put Scar kind of humorously in the background, so it's nice you noted that. XD Thanks for the encouragement and enjoy this chapter!_

_Now read, guys. :p Hope you love it._

* * *

><p>Despair.<p>

That was the first thing the lion felt as he backed into the rocky edge of the gorge, the rough surface pressing into him and reminding him that, indeed, there was no escape this time. The murky shadows covered him, the only visibility being the piercing eyes of his brother as they bore into him. He had dreaded this day, if he even thought that it would come at all. His hopes were that he would never again have to lay eyes on his elder sibling, yet they always seemed to cross paths at the most inconvenient of times. However, instead of his usual look of quiet, gentle concern, now Mufasa sported a look that was enough to make his blood curdle.

Overall, he was terrorized by his brother, who was so much larger and stronger—even now. All he could do was try his best to look unfazed, to try to gnash his teeth and hold in his anguish. The only thing that escaped was the crazed look in his eyes, and the pounding of his heartbeat as it resounded in his ears.

"Mufasa, please. You cannot do this…" he sent him a vaguely pleading look, backing up until he was parallel to the wall.

"I spared you once." He looked at him gruffly, taking a step closer with every step the younger brother took back. "Now tell me: why are you here, Scar? Do you not value your life enough to stay out of my lands?"

"Well, brother, you never _officially _exiled me, did you? I mean…" he laughed nervously, "please, I was just passing through. Surely you wouldn't kill me for _that_?"

Mufasa growled.

"You've no reason to be here."

"Yes, yes, Mufasa, you're absolutely right. You see, I was just walking along the gorge, towards the jungle. Just let me go—I'll leave, brother, and I won't be a burden. You'll never see hide nor hair of me again…"

_At least for now…_

Scar trailed off, teeth gritted in his attempt at a charming simper. Mufasa, unfortunately, was not amused. He moved closer, his provocation renewed as he closed the remainder of the distance between them. Whatever he'd said, it was the wrong thing… The smaller lion pressed himself into the wall and looked at his assailant with intensifying desperation.

"_Not a burden?_" Mufasa looked truly infuriated. "_NOT A BURDEN?!_"

He roared again, causing Scar to jump slightly, fur bristling and despaired countenance shocked into silence.

"How could you say that? You've already been a burden! You killed my son, wrecked my mate, split apart my family… you… you did _all _of this! _All of this! It's__** all **__your fault!_" He seethed for a moment, trying to compose his terrifying anger. "… And now you've returned. What _more _could you take from me, you _filthy_ miscreant? Don't you feel any shame?"

"It's not what it looks like," he spoke barely above a whisper, trying to calm himself and Mufasa down. He hated feeling so weak, so subjugated… but it was all he could do. Indeed, now that he was close to his brother, he realized that he looked even more wretched than he had thought: while the eldest had maintained his powerful, looming figure even in the midst of his emotional turmoil, the younger lion had suffered in more physical terms. Ribs jutted out from the flesh on his sides, lean and muscled limbs were on their way to becoming weak and knobby… and his dirty, blood-encrusted fur looked as though some malicious being had intentionally pulled and knotted it wherever possible. Scar had no choice but to lower himself down further, trying to assume a submissive and non-threatening posture.

"_Please, Mufasa_. They'll kill me," he rasped. "Just let me go. I'm sorry."

"_You'd better be,_" he growled, lifting up his paw with his claws unsheathed—something he rarely did. The older lion was seemingly ready to pin him to the rock. However, he suddenly stopped, remembering something.

"_Who's _going to kill you?" he asked, briefly planting his foot back on the ground. Whether he liked it or not, he was still Scar's family… and a small glint of protectiveness was piqued in him at the thought of someone or something _else_ deigning to harm his little brother.

"I…" Scar looked up in fear, knowing he had slipped up. "… I cannot tell you, brother."

Mufasa's face hardened.

"I asked you once, and I'll ask you _again_…" he growled, "_who_?"

"Please, Mufasa. I beg you… on my knees. Just forget it, just let me g—"

"_SILENCE!" _ he yelled harshly, voice raising profoundly as he stopped momentarily. "… Maybe I would if I _believed _you. But why I should is… is… wait a moment…" Mufasa spoke to himself as he lifted his head upwards, taking a long whiff of the still air. For a moment his face contorted, struggling to identify the faint and familiar tendrils of an odd yet familiar odor.

"Hyenas."

Scar stiffened, worried that they had caught up to him so fast—and, more relevantly, that his brother had learned of his deadly secret. Mufasa's face turned into one of unspeakable rage, even before Scar had had the chance to explain himself: indeed, Scar expected this. He expected all of this from his brother. For, in light of events long ago, there was nothing the hyenas were noted for other than their unspeakable crimes… And his brother surely held on to every bit of that.

"… You…" Mufasa leapt at his brother suddenly, pressing him ruthlessly and rather violently into the stone. His fangs shone in the night, inches from the younger lion's face, and his eyes burned with the embers of fiery passion.

"_HOW __**COULD **__YOU? __Associate with such a breed of _filth_—after what they did to our parents_?"

"Paren_t._"

"_**QUIET**_!"

Scar promptly ceased speaking out of fear, his body pressed up by the wall by those wicked claws… which were still sharp in spite of their obvious disuse as of late. Mufasa's paws dug into him, his rage scarcely bridled as one of his limbs found the other lion's throat and began to push fervently. A part of him simply wanted to throttle the life out of his brother, still thoroughly lathered with rage.

"_How? _Tell me! _Tell me—_I want to know, Scar!"

Scar was shaken roughly, his vision becoming bleary and fuzzy. His tongue lolled out, prompting thick rivulets of saliva to slick his coarse muzzle. He gasped quietly, trying to stifle his useless gagging and kicking. His jade eyes burned and glinted slightly in resentment and frustration, hoping that his brother would understand his cue. That he would, at the least, give him a chance to speak.

Moments passed, Mufasa still pressing him. Fine then. If he wouldn't let him answer, he wasn't going to bother. He noted that the older lion's breath was growing heavy, a grimace crossing his face while Scar stood quietly and tried not to submit to his bleary lightheadedness. He grew closer to succumbing, to slipping into the empty barrenness of unconsciousness… but he didn't show it.

As he faded away he focused less and less on the pain in his chest and his desire to leave, and more on the flickering disdain growing within him. All his doubts, all his second-thoughts… they were gone as he remembered just how Mufasa acted towards him. How he was always guilty until proven innocent. Indeed, a part of it felt abusive and perverse. They were uncomfortably pressed together, so close and intimate… yet, despite their blood ties and formerly tight bonds, it didn't reflect anything of that sort emotionally. Scar felt indignant, watching absently with watering eyes and fading vision as the soft paws of his brother—now tipped with daggered claws—closed in with increasing hostility.

He didn't feel guilty. After all, why should he have, when he was violated so profoundly?

Mufasa's grip loosened slightly, an odd yet severe twist coming to his face. He still looked angry—horribly so, in fact—though now he was only seething quietly. To the inexperienced eye, he almost looked placid and calm… but that could not be so. The younger lion knew his brother better than that. He simply didn't care anymore.

"_Puh_," he spat emphatically, briefly rubbing his forearm across his soaking chin before interjecting acerbically: "…Oh, Mufasa, you _are _always right, aren't you? I _was_ a bit forward in my gratitude. Well now, have you finished subjugating me, Your Highness? Or would you rather try that again?"

Under normal circumstances he would have held his tongue a bit better and avoided such a overt condescension, but he saw that it was no use. Begging wasn't getting him anywhere; now his intent was to prod, to poke, to twist his arm and gleefully toy with him until he was practically forced to spare him… For the one main weakness of his brother was that he was an emotional creature—when others listened faithfully to their minds to make the right decision, Mufasa was almost excessively swayed by his primeval instincts, animalistic desires, and visceral inner feelings. The only real way to escape in a situation like this was to provoke him to his breaking point and instill him with guilty rue. Unfortunately, while it sounded feasible, such a plan was notoriously easy to backfire: it could just as easily go the other way and push him once again into his horrifying wrath, whereupon the provoked elder would beat him half to death if he saw fit.

"_Silence, Scar_." He commanded severely, almost defying him to disobey… which he did with a noticeable smirk.

"Ah, but aren't you forgetting something, Mufasa? I thought you preferred to scream at all your subjects to get them to listen to you. It's lovely, and it really gets your point across, I'd have you know."

"You _dare _to mock me?" Mufasa growled, detecting his insincerity. As if it wasn't bad enough, he drew closer, bared fangs now inches from Scar's vaguely taunting expression.

"Oh no, Mufasa. You're only mocking yourself." He smiled wryly, his words caustic and biting. "_What a king you are_."

Now that, by any definition, had crossed the line, and he knew it. Mufasa, offended, reacted even faster and with more magnitude than he expected. Without warning, he drew back a paw and let his angered self drive his claws across his brother's face. The younger lion couldn't help but let out a brief gasp of surprise, the force of the blow knocking him weakly to the ground. He instinctively rested a paw over the side of his face, where three open gashes ran the length of his cheek and terminated at his jaw line. He withdrew his appendage, unable to hide his concern as the shine of his hot, sticky blood glistened off of his paw. Trying to remain upright and unfazed, he gritted his teeth and again tried to rise… but Mufasa was looming over him, clearly intent on something else. Leaning forward, he gripped the dark lion's scruff in his wet mouth, ignoring his brother's resistance as he effortlessly pulled him upwards. Scar was pinned to the rock with a paw as Mufasa effortlessly and efficiently sunk his teeth into the nape of his neck, allowing the fangs to gently close around his prey's fragile, rigid vertebrae.

"Zazu once told me you'd make a nice rug," he grimaced around the lump of fur in his mouth, "… now give me one good reason why I shouldn't see for myself."

Scar hushed for a moment, pensive, as he was unable to retain his calm composure except through silence. Though he expected such behavior from his brother and was feeling oddly reckless, the frightened demeanor brought on by his inner sense of self-preservation was enough to make him wary. He knew that Mufasa was serious, and that he was also more than capable of snapping his neck.

An uneasy pause accented the tense mood in the air, whereupon the younger lion ceased to fight back and only dangled limply, refusing to speak. Mufasa pressed his jaw shut tighter, vainly trying to squeeze something out of him.

"Why are the hyenas here? Do you have something to do with this?" he growled, and—at the lion's silence—sharply bit into him, drawing blood and causing his hapless victim to cringe slightly in pain.

"I…" he stammered brusquely, finally incited into explaining through his gritted teeth, "I had a debt with them. Couldn't pay it. Now let me go... I swear on my life, Mufasa, they'll flay me if they catch me alive."

"Not if I do it first."

"Oh?"

"You heard me."

Mufasa finally tossed Scar roughly out of his jaws, letting him smash brutally against the cold surface of the wall. Despite his sure speech, he seemed somewhat diffident about what he should say or do next. The younger brother fell to the ground, out of breath, though scarcely a moment passed before he, in his defiance, was resiliently trying to find his footing and stand up to him again. He wouldn't be trampled and snuffed out like this. His twisted pride refused to submit to such an indignity.

"Looks like _Muffy's_ mad… so tell me, brother, just how much do you like inflicting this pain upon me?" He couldn't help but grimace as a sudden sting of pain assaulted his abused shoulder, which had slammed into the ledge the hardest.

"_I don't_," he practically hissed, the difficulty with which he announced it showing through. "… But you deserve it for what you've done. You betrayed me… you betrayed _all of us!_"

"Oh, really? Fine, let's play that game, Muffy. Call me the traitor. But now you must ask yourself… why? Why has this all happened in the first place?"

"What do you mean? You took sides against our family! Do you even know how Sarabi has suffered—?"

"_Not my fault._" He interrupted phlegmatically. "If she wants to torment herself, then that is none of my doing." Scar stood silently on shaky legs, trying to hide in the darkness and prevent his battered self from collapsing in exhaustion.

"… You killed Simba…" he continued, ignoring his comment, "and you tried to kill me, your own _brother!_"

"But didn't you threaten to kill _me_ just now as well? Wouldn't that make you guilty of the same crime?"

"I have no choice—you killed my son and I know you'd do just the same to me if you got half the chance." He responded frankly, looking down on him as he tried to beat him with his reasoning. Unfortunately, that was not his forte. He looked agitated, assailed by all of this at once. Oddly enough, Mufasa didn't appear to advance closer: the golden lion only stood distantly, teeth bared and brows furrowed tightly. He only looked downwards, and saw something there that caught his eye. Blood.

Something was wrong with his brother's paw. It was smattered with crimson, dirty and encrusted with the glimmering wetness. On the end was a stub, a remnant of something that once was… and suddenly he could piece it all together.

He truly had been in a pact with hyenas, and a serious one at that. Mufasa had seen it once before, and heard of it numerous times: the paw-chopping. Numerous stories and memories came in, of wild dogs limping away as packs of hyenas ruthlessly set in at their heels, of desperate animals betraying their families and kin with their mutilated paws, trying to do whatever necessary to settle the score. Indeed, the hyenas had always been of a rather… _sordid_… disposition. But this was bad. It was a mark, a symbol of one last, obvious mistake. It appeared to the condemned as one last chance to live, but it wasn't. It separated them, so the vengeful pack could track them down and slaughter them when the time came. No matter what he did, whether he pulled off his job or not, he was going to die… slowly and brutally. At least if the hyenas had their way. He must have slipped up badly, somehow gotten into deep trouble with them, for such a thing to have happened. And then he remembered… the meat. The rotting pile gathered on his doorstep before he'd run away. Mentions of a debt. How he'd attacked Nala in the pantry, given up in the river out of righteous fear of what would happen, how he'd been gone periodically before the stampede… he'd been with them all along.

His face fell. He'd planned everything, and now he was in dire straits, trying to wriggle his way out of a tight situation. But it wasn't going to work this time… at least while he was here. Scar had been found out, and Mufasa did nothing but stare at him in shame. There was nothing else even he could do at that moment. He gawked, his expression saddened and his countenance drooping.

"Father would be ashamed of you."

"… I know."

He heard a sigh, and he tried to look Scar in the eye. The eldest wanted to see whether or not his face held any regret, whether there was still any hope for him. But it was forever unclear. His face was forever masked by darkness, and there was nothing he could do to discern from it where the truth ended and where the lie began. Mufasa grimaced, and braced himself as he asked the question he meant to ask all along.

"Why? Why have you done this?"

Silence.

"_Scar_," his face darkened ominously. "Tell me. I want to know…"

"Well, I don't want to tell you," he countered in a voice that was surprisingly bland and bare, "besides, why should _you _care all of a sudden?"

"Because I thought I could trust you."

"I thought_ I_ could trust _you_," he retorted with more ferocity than he had displayed as of yet, fangs bared angrily and expression wrought. Mufasa wanted to contradict him, to tell him that was nonsense… but he couldn't. He knew what he was referring to, in a way, and it unknowingly struck a nerve in both of them. Scar withdrew, lips returning to cover his array of teeth, and irritably turned away.

"Get out of my way. I can't stay here…" he tried to push past him, unsure of what was happening. And then, in a whisper so low that his brother could barely hear, he uttered something unexpected. For even he, weary as he was, could not discern just how much of it was truth at all.

"…I just want to forget, Mufasa."

A part of him did want to forget. A part of him did want to withdraw from his past so that he would never have to face it again. But Mufasa put a paw out in front of him, restricting his exit.

"No…" the hints of a growl formed in his throat, yet Scar could also see an odd twinge on his face as he tried to form his words. "I let you go in the river. I let you have the easy way out once. But now you have to face the consequences of your actions. You deserve this, Scar. You deserve every bit of this. You must face your demons on your own."

Scar stopped, agitated. His fur bristled, face dropping. That was it: his luck had run out. There was no mercy, no pity this time. And in his final hour—for it surely was—he thought about his brother's reasoning. Maybe a part of him had brought this unnecessary pain on himself. Maybe a part of this was indeed his fault. But it didn't matter. Because overall, more than anything else, he still felt betrayed. Betrayed to such a degree that he could not describe. His own purposeless emotions were hurting him, and he hated that. It made him feel weak and helpless. He tried to hide it, but it only augmented the problem and made it sting more inside. Scar grimaced and regarded his brother with a callous, stoic eye, reminding himself of just how silly this all was… that he would ever consider telling him the truth. He could never show him his true feelings. Never, _never_ again…

"_Fine, then_," he replied in the most stinging, biting tone he could possibly muster. "Go ahead with that, Mufasa. See if I care. Because I _don't_. You wouldn't know justice if it came and _bit _you on the nose."

He firmly stood his ground, eyes burning and teeth bared. It was a lie. It was all a lie. He did care about his life, and he was regarding the coming events with both apprehension and dread. But for his brother he only stood quietly, refusing to buckle or give in to his steadily increasing terror. It was his small way of rebelling before he was taken away, almost in the same way as Usiku had done. For, in some odd way, she was more right than she realized…

Mufasa regarded him from his high, regal pose, indignant. The younger lion refused to look him in the eye, trying to keep his focus away from his elder. Yet, in a moment, that would pose no problem. For a few seconds later, a harsh thud came and everything seemingly disappeared into silence. Scar looked up, unharmed, only to find that his brother was gone. He briefly considered taking advantage of the moment and running away before he stopped in his tracks, realization and a familiar odor both crossing his face.

"… It's him…"

* * *

><p><em>I know, <em>I know, **I know... **_yes, it's another cliffhanger. It's the last big one for now, I promise promise promise. x) So this chapter was all the emotional stuff - next chapter is the physical fighting/violence/death part. Yeah, next one is going to presumably be fun for everyone, yay! XD_

_This and the next chapter mark a major point in this fic. I'd say I'm about a third of the way done, but you've all heard that spiel from me before so I suppose I'll shut up now._

_I'm also considering going artsy and illustrating this fic, depending on feedback. So yeah, let me know. XD Samples will be up soon._

_Vayan con Dios! :D_

_Twin (:_


	26. Flight

_**A/N: **Whew, talk about a monstrosity... x.x *holds up bloody fingers* Don't worry guys, it's just fictional character blood, so it's okay... hehe... xD _

_Well, I pretty much just finished 8,000+ words of text spanning one chapter... or two. The way I see it, you all will either love me for putting up so much suspenseful writing in such a short period of time and space without all the waiting, or you will hate me for going all violent and forcing you to read so dang much. x) One or the other... personally, I'm hoping for the first reaction, but don't pelt me with vegetables in case of the second. XD_

_So let's get started, shall we? ;D_

**_mom: _**_Glad you liked the chapter. :p And yeah, you are first this time... hmm... where's Reldor? O.o *scratches head*_

**_theAnGerFlarE: _**_Thank you. :) And I know, I hate that when I read. ;/ I wouldn't want to torment you guys with them too much... (although it IS in the Suspense genre for a reason, right? ;p) Hehe... anyways, hope you keep reading. :D_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Yeah, Askari stopped to smell the roses... or something. X) lol And thank you - I was trying to make the scene emotional, yet also tense and exciting. :D I've got more plans for drama in the future (after this physical bit XD), including a flashback which seems oddly like a scene you used in Brother... great minds think alike, maybe? xp I kid... lol_

_**pokeking95: **Yeeee, that was just the atmosphere/reaction I wanted! :D (Sorry, I get excited when that happens xD lol) I'm so glad you're enjoying this... I hope you like this chapter too. :) Y se dice "el flashback" - yo vi un fic por un hispanohablante con "el flashback" para el titular de un capítulo. XD Yo pienso que este fic está medio terminado a lo más... I tend to underestimate, though. Around Chapter 10 I planned out the chapters up until about this point, and this was supposed to be Chapter 19. XD_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Ahh, I thought you'd be mad because I hadn't gotten far in it yet, and then I got all stressed out! DX Hehe... and I'm glad you liked last chapter, even though you've told me you aren't big into emotions (I still remember you saying "... ugh, feelings..." in Accidental Love XD lol). Now enjoy all the fighting. ;)_

**_Guest: _**_Thanks for the encouragement, Guest-who-sounds-like-Reldor-even-though-it'd-be-weird-for-him-to-be-last-and-not-log-in (wow, that's a mouthful... XD). If you're not of Reldorian origin, then never mind what I just said. lol I can just discern these things. xp_

_All of you keep an eye out for the wild **ForeverNocturnal**. Said creature looks like a bearded dragon and is known to roam around these parts. :p_

_(Also, watch out for possible blood splatters around this area - the rating's T for a reason. ;D)_

* * *

><p>Scar stopped in the gorge, in the middle of his first free moment… and possibly the last chance for him to escape. He whirled about, confused to find nobody in his way and nothing obstructing his view. No hyenas leapt out of the shadows and tore at him, and Mufasa was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, for several moments all was shockingly silent… until the rough sounds of fighting, yipping, and crazed growling resounded from behind a rock nearby. As afraid as he was, he was curious… looking once more down the empty gorge, he turned away and went towards its source, surprised to find Mufasa fighting with a lone hyena.<p>

There was only one hyena. Normally Mufasa would have pinned it down and ended the fight by now, but this was different. The hyena appeared to be trouncing him rather badly, his muscular figure advancing on the large form of the lion with commendable aggression and hostility. He couldn't understand why he was alone—it was unlike the hyenas to send out one solitary individual instead of a ruthless pack. Yet he took this as a good omen: there was only hyena to flee from, and Mufasa was occupied in his fight. His path of exit was wide open, and he was prepared to take it. Perhaps the hyena would even get lucky and kill Mufasa… then things would be significantly easier. In any case, the two were fighting and… wait… no. Mufasa?

Why was the hyena fighting his older brother? Weren't they after him? Mufasa didn't do anything to them—at least, nothing but…

Their exile. Surely, if they were after him, it was vengeance for that… or they were trying to kill him as the king of the Pridelands. Either way, it didn't look good. They must have had ulterior motives, something they were up to…

Scar skidded to a halt, his paws digging into the hard rock as he ceased his sprint and brought his escapade to an end. Something pricked up inside of him… something conflicted.

A part of him didn't care. A part of him was urged forwards by his fear, which told him that his survival was the only thing that mattered—not his brother, not the hyena, not the kingdom he had tried to take for himself… as long as he made it out of there intact, it would be a victory. And yet, at the same time, south wasn't the only direction he was being pulled towards. For there was something else. Something deeper. For surely, once Mufasa was rid of, the hyena would attack him as well—the chances of killing their enemy without suffering casualties was greater if the two lions worked together. And if there was one other being he wanted to avenge himself upon more than his clueless sibling, it was _that _hyena. The same one he recognized as cutting off his finger… and the same one doubtlessly sent to cut both their throats.

Besides, if worse came to worse and both of Pride Rock's princes were killed, they could go through with their plan without him and take over the kingdom. And who knew what would happen once that became a frightful reality…?

It was settled in his mind: he would need to transcend his instincts. He would kill the hyena alongside Mufasa—and then, in the aftermath, go through with his original idea and find the convenient moment to slip back into the shadows. It surely wouldn't be too hard if Mufasa was battered, bruised, and possessed by the idea that he had risked his life for _him_… It was a risk, and rather circuitous, but in the end it would placate his brother and remove the most dangerous of the hyenas as a threat. And one sacrifice now was bound to ease both of those burdens in the future.

He turned back, slipping through the shadows and towards the fight. Returning to the place where his brother had last been seen, he stopped and looked around, only to discover that there were no sounds of fighting and his brother was nowhere to be found anymore… first he looked left, and then right… nothing. Until, at least, he looked up.

Mufasa was climbing up the rock. Scar cocked an eyebrow, regarding this fact with suspicion—Mufasa was not a coward when it came to a one-on-one fight. But he must have possessed the knowledge that hyenas were foul climbers, and that it would perhaps even the odds slightly if he moved to a higher location. Of course, from Scar's point of view, Mufasa was _also_ a foul climber as far as lions went… so the risky move would probably only end up endangering both of them.

How smart of him.

Scar paced, agitated, as his brother neared the very same spot where he'd been thrown off once before… it was sheer and nearly vertical. And, as always, Mufasa was having a hard time climbing it. Askari, who had lagged a bit behind climbing up the gorge wall, was now approaching his heels again.

The dark lion rolled his eyes with the knowledge that, if Mufasa were left to his own devices, it would end badly… and then he disappeared stealthily, the spot he had once occupied lapsing back into nothingness. The years of creeping about after twilight to find food suddenly came in handy, his paws making no sound as he swiftly found a way up through the scoping ledges of rock and precarious edges. Only the occasional scraping of a rock was heard, and this was drowned out by the overwhelming degree of his brother's desperate scrapping at the ledge.

He could hear Askari's growls as he systematically climbed after his lion prey, the both of them nearing each other as the ledge got steeper and Mufasa's forward progress ceased…

Scar continued to move up the shallower, more indirect routes, his fur bristling as he got closer. What exactly was he doing? … What was he getting himself _into_?

He was nearing them… it wouldn't be long now. Mufasa finally pulled himself up, succeeding in the very task he had once failed to do. Turning around and looking sternly down at the tenacious hyena, he let out a growl.

The younger brother, having crisscrossed through a maze of narrow, winding ledges, now watched the scene from the nearby shadows. To his amusement, Mufasa tried to do what he himself had once done to him… he whipped forwards, trying to take Askari's paws in his own. The hyena, while deft, could not avoid the large lion's grasp… but he could break it. With similar, if not faster, reflexes, he drew forwards and bit him harshly in the face, and with a surprisingly spry move he took advantage of the lion's pain and confusion and jumped onto the ledge. Mufasa drew back with a paw at his face, indignant and feeling blighted, but he didn't have much time to ponder it—Askari had already leapt at him, and he could do nothing but try to defend himself.

Scar stood at his place, eyes narrowing calculatingly as the two fighters advanced back and forth against each other. He waited for his moment, claws digging into the rock and a rumbling growl beginning to form in the back of his throat. Neither of them noticed him—Mufasa in particular had more important things to worry about: namely, not getting killed. Any moment now would be his to strike… any moment.

Finally something seemed to unfold. Mufasa tripped, or something thereabouts, and Askari was advancing on him, seemingly one move away from pinning him to the wall behind their narrow ledge. Mufasa was mostly cornered, and neither moved around the other…

The dark lion, still hidden in the shadows, prepared himself. The muscles in his limbs tensed and he crouched, eying them and trying to time his pounce in the most advantageous way possible. He had a few seconds at best… the shine from the splotchy moonlight illuminated the alcove and his targets well, and so it was that he could see even from his place of darkness.

And then he leapt. Claws out, limbs stretched, jaw line hardened as he bared his fangs… at the end of it all he couldn't suppress a roar, his show of anger as his paws collided with the hyena and sent them tumbling. Askari pricked up in surprise, and Scar could feel the warm, breathing weight tense up and lie sedate and in wait as his momentum carried them farther along the edge. The hairs on the back of Scar's neck prickled as he vaguely wondered what his enemy had in mind, and at just what sort of fight he had entered… Already he was starting to regret intervening at all.

Mufasa stood at the back of the wall, his breath heavy and his expression now concerned. He'd stayed behind for a moment, having received some minor injuries from the brisk scuffle… but he had a feeling it was nothing like the fight that was about to unfold. Scar had saved him—he didn't know why, and he doubted that his intentions had suddenly become benevolent… but he could admit to that much. He moved forwards, trying to locate his younger brother again, only to see that the hyena had leapt at him and knocked him off balance. Suddenly unsettled, he gritted his teeth and watched, not in a position to help and knowing firsthand that a drop straight to the ground from this height had the potential to hurt badly…

Scar hovered momentarily and cautiously on the precarious edge, trying to maintain his footing and barely succeeding. Askari took advantage of his position and leapt at him again—having no other choice, the lion embraced him, digging his claws and paws into the ruff of fur about his opponent's neck. If he was going to fall off the gorge, he was taking his attacker with him. And so it was that he wavered slightly, and then fell backwards off the ledge…

The younger lion's breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly found himself falling off the shelf. For a moment, all was still, save for the hyena struggling under him. His attacker tried to claw at any parts of him he could reach, hoping to do some damage, though he quickly realized he was falling and tried to make the most of it. Both of them fought and scrabbled with each other, attempting to make sure that their opponent would be the one to fall to the ground under them.

What was he doing? He wasn't sure… he could only hope that the hyena would be hurt more than he would—for no matter which way it went, he would be in for some hurt by the time he reached the bottom. His shoulder smacked into a rock, and another sharp boulder nicked him in the side. Askari had since wriggled out of his grasp and was trying to roll on top of him in midair, though each time they collided with any protrusions it jostled and jarred them somewhat. One moment Scar was on top, trying to force Askari's head down with his paws and let him cushion his fall; the next, however, the both of them had rolled head over heels, and it was Askari's turn to try to claw his opponent and push him under.

This all happened very fast, as both fighters had quick reflexes and movements… yet the fall could only last so long. Scar, having drawn the shortest stick, could see that he was about to collide into a ledge midway down the drop. He swiftly braced himself, muscles tensing as everything crept closer.

_Smack!_

Scar's side was jammed up against the rough rock, knocking the air out of him with a hard blow. Askari, dazed yet resourceful, landed simultaneously. Using his enemy's current weaknesses to his advantage as he always did, he had briefly positioned himself so that, at the moment the two hit the ground, the full combined force of gravity and the collision would drive his elbow deep into the lion's soft, yielding gut. The move worked perfectly, and though the hyena had trouble rising to his feet after suffering such a fall, Scar was in for a significantly harder time. Having been pressed into from both sides, he could momentarily do nothing but double over in pain, his lungs empty and a sharp stab assailing him from below his ribcage. By the time he'd rolled back onto his belly and risen halfway to his feet, Askari was already up and prepared, and it was all too easy for the hyena to keep his adversary at bay with a strong swipe to the face. Scar recoiled and staggered to the side, leaning against the rock wall for as long as he possibly could. He stood dazed, his hot flanks heaving as he struggled to catch his breath and ease the pain in his chest and stomach.

All this lasted for but a moment, as Askari had already leapt at him again… this time with the obvious intention of clawing him across the throat for a deathblow. He almost succeeded, several inches of Scar's mane being cut as he drew his head back. The lion tried to take a step backwards, eyes widening as his foot slipped and the realization came that he was again on the precipitous edge of falling and could not move farther. Desperate, he tried to move closer to the ledge, though this only cornered him more. Askari leapt at him with a passionate surge, paws smacking into the lion's chest and sending the victim to the ground in a sprawled heap.

Scar finally stopped moving, a momentary moan of pain escaping his curled figure. He blinked, unable to hear anything over the echo of his heartbeat as it pounded in his ears. There was nothing he could do at this point—his breathing was still labored and painful as he tried to catch it, and Askari was already looming over him, a victorious smirk on his face. The hyena lifted up his paw, the claws on it pulled out and prepared to dole out whatever he wished…

"Well, I suppose I should thank _you_ for this, Scar. You told us all to be prepared, and now _I'm_ prepared… to kill you. So g_óða nótt__, __sætur__prins_... I hope the nights are equally pleasant down in the fire where you're going."

Scar exhaled in defeat… he had been beaten. He could do nothing but lie there, pinned down by Askari's paws and hoping that it would end quickly. Besides, he was supposed to die. He was supposed to die all along. His brother was nowhere to be found… nowhere to help him, just as he'd thought. And why should he? Scar never should have turned around and tried to save Mufasa's life… he should have turned coward and run with his tail between his legs instead…

Or maybe not. He was about to die, yet he still felt like he'd died for _something_… something other than himself. Something bigger, and greater—he didn't know what it was, or if it was even significant. He only knew that he'd never felt anything like it before. Having stayed and fought, he could have the pride and dignity to die something other than a coward's death. And so he didn't plead. He didn't beg or kick or scream… he only sat silently, his sharp eyes studying Askari's as if defying him to go forwards with this.

He did. Or he would have, at any rate. For, at the very moment of impact, something came between them.

Scar heard a harsh, raspy scream from his rear, and he perked up in surprise to find a lioness in front of him. She knocked Askari off of his still body, fighting without any coordination whatsoever. Her sharp claws attempted to cut into him, slashing the rock and their surroundings in the process. The hyena backed up, looking no more than miffed… and as she overstepped her bounds to take a large, failed swipe at him, he took advantage of her exposed self and leapt forwards, his fangs sinking in around her neck.

He continued with a quick, efficient move. Alas, it wasn't enough to snap the stout lioness' vertebrae, but with a further jerk he found himself with most of her throat ripped away in his mouth. A thick splatter of blood sprayed out, covering the dark, silhouetted rocks… indeed, some of it found its way onto Scar, who was greeted with a warm peppering of crimson on his muzzle.

"_YOU!"_

The wrathful voice of Mufasa suddenly boomed from the ledge above, causing both Scar and Askari to jump slightly in surprise. Scar had found his clumsy way onto his feet as fast as he could, as the hyena's attention was on the older lion trying to leap down the rocks. Pricked by a strange mix of curiosity and horror, the dark lion was incited forwards, trying to identify the victim in whatever stray slivers of moonlight had danced across her form. In the end, her now bloody figure, still somehow barely alive, was not obvious… until he decided to take a whiff of the blood's sharp, overpowering odor.

Sarabi.

… Sarabi?

His nose wrinkled in confusion, at least until Askari shot him a thick, potent glare. The hyena's dark eyes shimmered in the night, his facial expression betraying the words hidden within his silent body. Thick globules of red dripped off his muzzle, and he looked ready to ravage anyone or anything he happened to come across… The younger lion's flesh crept, blood curdling as he stood with seeming calmness on the ledge. The façade did not fool his enemy—nothing did.

_I'm not finished with you_…

Mufasa ran with rage and climbed down the cliffs, the unbridled fury he felt at his ex-mate's death surprisingly strong. Askari smirked and, without warning, rammed into Scar. He knew that the older lion would be too distracted with Sarabi's silencing figure, and that he would have enough time to settle the fight and kill the younger and weaker of the princes he was assigned to assassinate. The both of them vanished, and Mufasa arrived just in time to see his mate take her final breaths.

"Sarabi! Sarabi, I'm here…"

He tenderly took her paw in his own, a wild and desperate light coming into his eyes as he tried to get her to stay with him… yet the gleam in hers was rapidly fading. She had seconds to live, at the very most. Mufasa could not help but be sprinkled with his beloved lioness' blood, which was pumping out of the gaping wound on her neck and trickling down her chest and limbs to come to rest on the ledge…

"Mu… Mufasa…" she paused a moment and coughed horribly, her body undulating as it racked her entire being. The crimson fluid came forth from her lips, staining her muzzle as she turned and struggled to look at him. "Don't… let it… just… let…"

Her breathing hitched and became weak, Mufasa pressuring her to continue with his steadfast gaze. The grip on her paw tightened, the tears brimming in his eyes as he looked upon her, the lioness who had so suddenly come from nowhere and saved his brother…

Why?

She looked up at him, the rest of her energy going into one last, soft smile. The lioness could tell she had less time than she thought—that this would be her last breath. And so she ignored what she had said before, instead reminding him of the one truth which needed to be acknowledged, the one axiom she couldn't leave without imparting to him…

"L… Love you…"

And that was it. She exhaled, her head flopping back limply and her body becoming still. No more pulses of her heart resounded, and her chest rose and fell with breath no longer. She was gone.

Mufasa nuzzled her, an odd hardness piquing in his heart. He didn't want to let go. He simply wanted to stay there, to remain by her forever. She had left him twice now, and he didn't know what to do… it was too late—this time her departure was for good. Never again would she be in the world of the living, and he could do nothing but cuddle up to her and hope she would come back. She wouldn't. But it was worth a try.

He felt alone. Abandoned. Like an orphaned cub, a ravaged widower… although he supposed that, technically, he was both of those things, or had been at some point. The golden lion sulked, wallowing in his solitude. His son, his mate, his parents, his friends… all gone. He was the only one left, the only one surviving with the breath in his body. And surely it was only a matter of time before that too was ripped away from him.

A part of him did feel like it was pointless… he wanted to join them in the afterlife, so that they could be together again. Besides, his kingdom would go to shambles under him, and he simply didn't feel like he could lead anymore anyways. Nyota was right—his judgment was foggy… and Usiku… Usiku was also right: he was a putrid ruler and could do nothing to protect even his own subjects. Indeed, they were all correct in some way… he'd come up short. He wasn't good enough. The last being to love him had just perished, her mind already ravaged and his own likely to follow. What more purpose did he have? Why even bother anymore…?

What more could he do? He'd let everyone down…

But wait. No. There was one relative of his still alive, one more being sharing in his parent's blood as he did. One who had saved him despite the odds and despite everything… a lion who was down there on the ground, perhaps struggling for his life and in need of help. And then it all became clear. He did have one thing left to live for… one solitary mission. One thing he _would _see fulfilled before he succumbed to the clutches of death. A whisper of wind ruffled through his mane, as if to condone his choice, and his face tightened up in determination.

Scar was his brother, and the only one he had left. For if he died, he truly would have failed in everything. Everything he had promised to his family… it was now time for it to be tested. This would be the hardest of all… he would have to face his past, and the one being who had had enough hatred to deign to break their bond. If Sarabi had the courage to jump into the fray, to show them both that she forgave them despite losing everything, then he could do the same. He would give it everything, for that was the only thing he could do…

He would save him.

* * *

><p><em>Yep, so that's the first tidbit of action there. The next part <em>will _be posted at midnight my time - about 3.5 hours from now - so stay tuned and be prepared. It is already written and completed, and there will be no author's notes at the beginning: only the chapter. After that it slows down for a while, though there still will be some good scenes coming up. ;p_

_If you're curious about fanart, then check my profile page for links to my TLKFAA album (a little bit of TLK art is there, though not much at the moment) and my MLK forum account (also a snippet of off-topic artwork there). Since I use traditional media, do not expect to see Photoshop work or things with elaborate backgrounds. What's up now is mostly a sample. :3_

_Anyways, leave a review if you liked the chapter, or you have any predictions on what will happen. Or, better yet, just say anything you want - everything goes, so post away. ;) _

_Vayan con Dios!_

_Twin (:_


	27. Or Fight

_Enjoy. ;)_

* * *

><p>"Is that all you have in you, lion? Or are you as much of a runt as they say you are? Come on, hit me like you <em>mean it!<em>"

Askari whirled around the dark lion with a laugh, his expression taunting and underhanded. Scar growled in pure frustration, wishing that the hyena would get bored of his little game and kill him, or at least ease up a bit of the torment. He was like a mouse caught by the cat who _knew _of its own strength—and Askari, seemingly knowledgeable of Scar's relative weakness and reveling in the rare opportunity to dispatch his quarry, took the time to have a little _fun_…

Scar tensed up, swinging his paw in a vain attempt to hit him. He was hoping to smack the condescension right out of him… to make him less sure of himself and perhaps force his enemy to take him and their fight seriously. But Askari dodged it without batting an eye, before doling out a blow of his own and slashing Scar hard across his exposed chest.

"Come on, I told you to _hit _me!" Askari rolled his eyes in apparent irritation, tail lashing as he bounded and flitted back and forth. Scar tried again, but only nicked the quick hyena as his expression changed, thinking up something new with which he could toy with him.

"Ah, 'prepare for the _coup _of the century'… those were your words, no? So tell me, Scar, what does 'coup' mean?"

Scar growled and refused to respond, trying to avoid moving backwards as Askari suddenly advanced on him. The hyena batted at his face, and was surprised when the lion lifted up his paw and blocked the blow with his arm. With a grin, he nodded as if he were impressed, before he suddenly moved to the side and attempted to flank him. The lion backed up, his intentions of remaining steadfast thwarted as he neared the gorge's edge…

"Come on, now. Don't be such a _spoilsport…_ I'm curious. Or are you really stupider than your words would have me believe?"

His sly grin faltered for a moment, his impatience and desire to progress with his sordid murder showing through. Teasing could only last for so long—if he was to be expedient, he would need to put his paw down and finish up soon… He glanced at his claws momentarily and then swiped at his chest again, drawing blood and abrading whatever mane had grown there with his sharpened digits.

"Tell me!"

Scar growled, knowing the answer and the probable outcome of it. Yet he had no choice but to acquiesce—to submit and give him the answer he apparently craved—if he wished him to stop his mental torment.

"… _Strike_…"

_Whap!_

Askari leapt at him quickly and ruthlessly, his claws serving to deepen the wounds already inflicted on him by Mufasa. He nearly lost his footing due to the quickness of the blow across his face, recoiling again in pain and backing up as quickly as he could… lest he attack him once more. Yet Askari stayed in place for once, grinning and apparently pleased with himself.

"Ask and you shall receive—is that not right? But tell me: was it really the coup of the century you wanted? Or should I try harder?" he laughed pleasurably, darting again to his other side to keep him on his toes.

It was time to end it: both of them knew it. For Askari, it was exciting and thrilling… but Scar was not ready to give himself up. Not yet. The fight quickly degraded from a tussling romp to a dirty scrap for survival—no rules, no obstacles, nothing held back and nothing to stop one from obliterating the other. Scar clung to life bitterly, adapting as fast as he could to his opponent's fighting style. He fought ruthlessly, unfazed by Askari's continued advantage, and refused to yield to whatever the hyena pressed upon him. And it was then that the combatants, lowering themselves down and battling tooth and claw like the animals they were, let their true natures show through: the proud and bitter prince against the tough and merciless assassin. It continued this way for a while, neither of their stubborn selves consenting to give an inch despite the obvious outcome of their scenario…

Scar refused to despair. Despite everything, and despite the fact that they were deep into the gorge and Mufasa was nowhere to be seen, he refused to show his building fear. He lunged fiercely, digging and raking his claws against Askari's hide. He grated him with his teeth, eyes narrowed and every part of him trying to bore down on his opponent. For even if Askari won the battle—there was little doubt he would—he was still going to give him the roughest time possible… he was going to make himself known as the one who didn't go down without inflicting injury upon his attacker. And so he ignored the pain. He ignored the gaping wounds Askari placed upon his body as he bit and tore at his enemy. The hyena actually looked quite surprised to see his victim fighting back with such spirit and succeeding to such a degree. It was still not enough to frighten him, and never was it enough to discourage him—to him, dying in the process of a kill was more honorable than leaving it unfinished, which was why he remained calm, dodged what he could, and sunk his teeth and claws into Scar's flesh whenever he was bold enough to expose himself.

Indeed, the hyena was always ready and more than willing to find the weakest points of his enemy and exploit them, to systematically attack whichever side was most vulnerable at the moment he chose to dive in and viciously strike. He was lightning fast, dangerously quick… powerful and yet speedy and spontaneous. He knew all the right moments to turn away and hide, or to move forwards in aggressive pursuit. The perfect scenario to block, the best to parry, the right moment to get at his opponent with his sharp claws and deadly fangs—he was a fighter through and through, and certainly unlike any hyena Scar had ever seen.

Alas, it was tiring to fight against his mismatched opponent, and the peppering of wounds he had so callously ignored were beginning to show through and sap his strength. Askari grinned the blood-curdling, brutal grin he had once been known so well for, recognizing the final leg of the battle as Scar's attacks inadvertently slowed and he began to slip up more and more, either through a slight stumble, mistimed strike, or other impediment. His blows were easier to dodge and had more weight behind them, leaving him vulnerable as he followed through and gradually exposed more and more of himself. And then it was Askari's turn to move on the offensive, paying back and eventually surpassing the injuries that Scar had placed upon him.

He leapt at the lion, avoiding the paw his enemy raised to prevent him from doing so. He closed in and sunk his teeth into his shoulder, releasing his grip and moving to the side before Scar could attack him properly. Continuing onwards, he moved towards his opponent's hindquarters, forcing Scar to whirl around awkwardly to keep himself facing his attacker—and then, without warning, Askari used the momentum to his advantage by giving the lion's opposite leg a quick tug and knocking him off-balance. Scar fell to his side, and only his quickness in rolling over and escaping Askari's reach kept him from being significantly injured; the hyena nonetheless came at him quickly, trying to pull his claws down his belly—an obvious attempt at cutting him open.

Scar ignored the wound and the fresh blood dripping from his rent middle, instead keeping his focus on the hyena and on evading his heaviest blows. Askari still plowed forwards, making up for it with the sheer number of hits he rained down upon his opponent's body—he sliced his flanks, scored his limbs with his claws, and bit into any protruding areas he could reach. Blood leaked onto his muzzle, warming his jaws as they passionately incised one of the lion's shoulders, and it began to dribble all across his victim as well. Indeed, to Askari it was like an art form: he enjoyed the warm streams trickling down and showering him, reveled in the feel of his enemy's blood as it spilled freely and copiously… before, of course, he disappeared, preparing for the last move that would subjugate him completely.

His prey growled and attempted to fix his eyes on his opponent, but Askari blended in well with his surroundings and took the convenient moment to lapse back into the shadows. Afraid and angry, Scar tried to keep turning about in order that he would remain facing his attacker… or, at least, wherever he perceived his attacker to be. He tensed for a moment, ears pricking, before the chilling sound of mirth burbled throughout the gorge. Scar turned on it, ready to defend himself, but Askari was deft—although he tried to pinpoint the hyena and prepare himself for a sudden attack, he still felt off-guard and unprepared for what happened next: he always did. There was little he could do when Askari leapt out from behind a rock, teeth bared as he closed in.

Finally the prince turned, his claws barely nicking Askari's nose as he flashed by, having approached his enemy from the backside despite his best efforts at facing him. Taking careful advantage of this fact with the smoothest moves and the most pragmatic efficiency he could muster, Askari surged forwards, conveniently choosing to exploit the sore, festering leg wound which Banzai had given Scar several days before—despite his efforts, it had not quite healed over.

The lion roared in pain: just the sound the soldier wanted to hear. Scar flailed in surprise and kicked at him, though he quickly found himself frozen and fallen to the ground—the last place he wanted to be—in his shock and sudden terror. Askari's lips curved upwards in pleasure, the lion's brief throes submitting to his tortured cries as the hyena dug his fangs deeper into the tender wound. He could feel the hide break under his glistening teeth, the soft flesh yield to his piercing jaws… his heart pounded with the thrill of the hunt, the taste of his prey's blood inciting him further. He shook his head about, hoping to tear up the limb as much as he could and take advantage of Scar's incapacitation. The more impairment he could inflict on him, the better. And indeed, none of the lion's meager muscles or delicate nerves could quite stand up to the harsh abuse Askari's maws were putting it to. He felt the pressure in his leg increase, the snapping and tearing as his opponent's teeth ground into the limb's fragile frame… and then the finale. Lifting up his head, the hyena finally sank his teeth around the exposed bone. The tension in it momentarily augmented, and the lion's enemy—who was no doubt good at eating carrion and could break and devour bones like most hyenas could—suddenly felt it release with a sickening, painful snap.

Scar let out another roar, his claws scrapping across the ground and his teeth gritted as hard as he could clench them together. He tried not to show himself as weak and pathetic—he really did—but none of it fazed the hyena, who let the mutilated limb drop to the ground with a thirsty, brutal expression on his face. He waited for Scar, tail impatiently whipping about as the lion huffed with pain and slowly got to his feet, his now-useless hind leg dangling and dripping with his own blood and his opponent's saliva. With a triumphant smirk, Askari pressed into his shoulder with his paw… and Scar fell to the ground once more in a heavy heap, the fight all but taken out of him.

He had won. It was indisputable now. Yet it wasn't the end… there was one more task for Askari to complete. Something he had invariably done to his victims every time he'd been sent out, as per the Brotherhood's style, and which was almost as important as the physical cut that would end their lives. As a final part of reducing their enemies to nothing, he was required to break their spirit and their pride along with their bodies. And so, in their final moments, they would have to deal with the shame of yielding to him… and they would effectively be rendered powerless. Once Scar broke, then he could kill him and move on to Mufasa… and he was more than ready to repeat the process over for him—as hard as Scar had tried, he couldn't quite afflict the well-trained hyena with any serious injuries. Now was his chance to flex his claws and show his crueler, darker side… though this time he simply wanted to end it all, not wishing to be caught in the midst of an angered lion pride no matter how unlikely it would have been for them to show up. Indeed, among his victims he'd killed a fair number of lions—often leaders and important individuals—and this was usually the hardest part. This was the point where he was most susceptible to being foiled by bodyguards or counter-assassins. And this was the point where he had to be most careful. He knew Scar was conniving and convincing, and that he was still likely to have a trick hidden away behind his seemingly helpless exterior.

And indeed, he was more right than he knew. For at that moment Scar was defaulting to trickery as his last resort: fighting physically had gotten him nowhere. Alas, it was something he should have tried in the first place so that he could make full use of his limbs and physical form to assist him… but it didn't matter. He was desperate for something—_anything_—he could use to get out of this. He crawled towards the edge of the gorge slowly, trying not to arouse suspicion as he crept towards one of the grottos that littered the side of the canyon. Askari took a few steps to block him, fixing the lion with a disdainful expression as he tried to make his escape.

"Were you planning on leaving so soon?" he simpered, the expression on his face caustic and controlled at the same time… "I was hoping you would have the decency to stay with me a while, although I _suppose_ I could hurry with the unpleasant task of killing you. You see, your brother awaits a similar fate and I really should hurry… Just do one thing for me, Scar: tell me how afraid you are. Tell me just how much your _pathetic_ existence means to you."

Scar glanced at him, confused, before he longingly looked back towards the pitch-dark interior of the cave. If only he could reach it… if only he could… could…

"… What?" he responded vaguely, pretending that he was half-interested. At the moment, however, the urge to escape into that cove was overwhelmingly strong. He tried to hide it, to allow the hyena to regard him without suspicion, but Askari still looked upon him with an oddly superior expression. For a hyena who was normally so detached and emotionless, his deadly work surely had brought the life into his now-animated form.

"You can't ignore it. I can practically _smell_ the fear on you, Scar… you're no different from the other cowards I've hunted down and killed. Now beg for mercy. Grovel and plea for the very thing you don't deserve…" he eyed him severely, his view of him clearly distorted by the rage and hatred slowly bubbling and simmering behind his efficient, even exterior. Indeed, any lion with the gall to provoke Shenzi's pack to the degree that he must have was sure to receive stringent punishment.

"… Or you're going to be begging for a quick _demise_ by the time I'm finished with you."

Silence. The lion said nothing—he wasn't going to abate his efforts and lapse back into a sniveling beggar: he promised himself he wouldn't. He'd been doing that for too long, and he'd already had enough of it… never again would he, a prince, be reduced to that level. For no matter how his adversaries, whether his brother, the lionesses, or any of the hyenas, tried to lord it over him, he was still of noble blood… and he wasn't going to lower himself down that far into the muck. He had dignity, if nothing else. Besides, what good would it do? It was already clear the hyena wanted nothing better than to kill him there. Why should he bother? Why stop to play his silly game?

Askari bared his fangs, already knowing that he would be too recalcitrant and stubborn to bend. But alas, the most brittle steel always shattered the hardest, and always gave in the most profoundly. He grimaced, his fangs and his wet muzzle glistening.

"Fine, then. If the very sound of my voice isn't enough to fill you with trepidation, then these claws will do it for me. They'll rip the pride right out of you soon enough. Everyone _squeals_ in the end, princey, and you will be no exception…" he mocked basely, a taunt which Scar would have found offensive had he been paying the least bit attention. He staggered to his good feet slowly and drew himself up to his full level, his sinuous body attempting to slink away with his usual lilting gait… he moved as quickly as his injuries would allow, though it made no difference. Askari made no move to stop him, and only watched bemusedly as he limped to the bottom of the cave and stopped for a breath. To his eye, he was only prolonging his torment by cornering himself. But Scar's eye was fixed on something different—the ceiling. And suddenly he knew why he wanted to come to the cave…

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, hmm?"

His would-be executioner continued with his haunting expression, drawing up to him with a careful, calculating slowness. Scar decided to overplay his weakness, his breath growing heavier as he pretended to be overcome with fatigue. For a moment he stood there, quiet and unperturbed… before Askari brutally slashed at him with his claws. The lion ducked and avoided the blow, if barely, and took another sideways step… yet the infuriated hyena would not be foiled, and quickly rammed into him with all of his muscle behind the blow. Scar froze and braced himself to take it—in the end, it only took him closer to the back edge of the cave. Only a few more steps and he would be where he wanted to be. He stood up, surprised to find that the spot where he had landed was smattered with his blood, and that most of his fur was warm and slicked with it. He suddenly felt weak, legs buckling as he tried to take another staggering step…

He fell to his knees, the pain slowly beginning to catch up to him… for real. Slowly he felt as though he were being paralyzed: there was little for him to do but lie there, his breath heavy and labored. Askari sensed this, his paw clutching at a large clump of mane as he lifted up his head and forced Scar to look him solidly in the eye.

The lion wasn't sure how many times the hyena hit him. He closed his eyes, yet he could feel the claws slice through him and open up fresh wounds, suffer through the weight of Askari's paw as he fiercely backhanded him. There was no respite, even as the hyena took him and slammed his head into the stone floor multiple times, each more intense than the last. Almost immediately he was racked by a fierce, splitting headache, and plenty of blood began to encrust his mane as his vision swam and everything became bleary and fogged… Finally he could hear Askari's words poke up and tickle the inside of his ear, the harsh and raspy breath of his enemy ruffling the fur there.

"Have you changed your mind yet? Or does it need more… _convincing_…? "

Scar grimaced, unable to think coherently over the clamoring pain inside of his cranium. Every modicum of thought seemed to be snuffed out, and even the sensible side of him refused to make an appearance. There were only the odd flashes of color, the bright stings of raw pain, and the barely-contained screaming of his inner, visceral animal. He reluctantly opened his jaws, yet no words escaped his seemingly stifled throat.

Askari dropped him roughly to the ground, turning around with an impatient growl. Whatever he was doing, it wasn't enough… or he was going about it the wrong way. He turned around and gazed at the wall, before slowly and methodically drawing his claws down the stone… once, twice, thrice…

He was sharpening his claws—that much Scar could see, if nothing else. This was his last chance to escape. The lion braced himself, noting the proximity of the wall, and he lowered himself down as far as he could in the depressed center of the cavern. Desperation and the last of his strength caused him to fling all of his weight towards the wall, tumbling head over heels in the air as he haphazardly threw himself through the air. He tensed up, preparing for the pain which inevitably surged through his side as he crashed up against it with a sickening smacking sound. The wall was as hard as always, the rock triumphing over the blow of his weakened body. For several moments all was still and silent… until the distant echoes of it began to reverberate and rack the high ceilings, causing dust and small bits of stone to rain down upon the hyena, who turned and looked bemusedly at the haggard lion now at the back of the cave.

It worked.

"… Hmm, I must have hit you harder than I thought. Don't think escape through there is going to work. You're trapped here, and now you're mine…" his face twisted into a callous grin, his claws rapping the ground and sliding across the stone floor. He finally turned away from the wall and lumbered slowly towards the center, with the intent of closing off his exit and herding him more towards the back.

Scar was leaning heavily on the wall and breathing hard, using the stone to support himself and keep him on his feet. He almost thought that his limbs would again slip out from under him, but he retained his footing and cautiously eyed the approaching hyena. There wasn't much time now. Gritting his teeth once more, he braced himself and slammed with all his strength into the wall. The blow impacted hard at his shoulder, no doubt leaving a bruise under its already cut, bloody surface. More dust came down from the ceiling, coating his back in a light powder. Askari's bemused expression fell, and his lethargic pace quickened towards him. He was serious.

This was it. His last chance.

His shoulder tensed, and he truly put all of his strength into the last collision—not even holding back for fear of how much it would hurt him. Immediately something inside seemed to snap and give way, almost as though part of the bone had shattered under the pressure. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground, his strength suddenly dissipated while he slumped to the floor. Askari leapt closer, his anger showing through as he barreled towards him. Yet there was scarcely a pause before an ominous rumble began to sound from above them. This time the hyena froze as if in shock, looking around as it grew louder and the degree of it magnified. His eyes pierced the ceiling and darted around, and then it all came crashing down. Several stalactites rained from the roof, impaling several points on the ground. Scar could see his adversary's muscles tense in pure confusion, before he let out a horrid sounding cry.

"YEAAAAP—!"

Askari let out an uncharacteristic yelp, face frozen into the first expression of fear Scar had ever seen on him. But it was quickly interrupted, his cry being cut short as the point of a rock pierced the nape of his neck and instantly killed him, the end of it coming out below his chin with a generous spurt of blood. The lifeless body hung there, the muscles and face tense and now to be frozen in shock forever. The hyena's tongue lolled out, and there was no more fire and lucidity in his eyes… indeed, he looked eerily like his other self, Ed… only this time there was no life in him at all. No hyena laughter echoed through the cavern, and Scar was suddenly alone.

He had won the fight. But at what cost? The lion was trapped at the back of a cave, barely able to move or even call out for help.

Scar relaxed, as he was finally able to do so, and tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving and his eyes closed in appreciation of the silence and safety. His tense muscles loosened, and he didn't move—he didn't want to. All he wanted to do was rest, even though he could feel his wounds shed more blood with every beat of his hammering heart. Perhaps that was why he felt so light, so… _loopy_… the inside of his head throbbed and ached, and this did nothing to soothe the sudden odd feeling.

Minutes passed, and nothing happened… at least inside the cave. As for what was happening in the gorge, he wasn't sure: he could smell nothing over the blood and the humid, putrid scent of whatever else was in the stuffy cave—perhaps the old urine odor associated with some vagabond predator's domicile. He wasn't sure, and he didn't care much. Perhaps a part of him felt starkly abandoned, left to die in this random waste… but the majority of his thoughts were just glad to be left alone, his life no longer in danger from anything except his own wounds, which he almost didn't deign to look at.

He thought he heard scuffling footsteps outside, and he inadvertently stiffened up… he couldn't see anything in the dark, and the identity of the prowler was unclear—whatever it was, it seemed intent to walk around purposefully before finally coming to rest as a vague silhouette in front of the entrance. The lion went limp and his breathing quieted, subtly trying to remain hidden and inconspicuous in the back of his sanctuary. For a moment it looked as though the being would enter, but then it promptly turned around and scuttled away.

And suddenly he knew why. For he once again heard footsteps—this time from a larger being. The quick plodding of limbs resounded outside, drawing close and then fading away… no doubt following his scent. Yet when the creature drew up and stood at its full height outside the cavern, there was no doubt in his mind that it was a lion.

"…Mufasa…?" his voice came out as a pitiable squeak, little more than a rough rasp as he lay across the ground and set his head back across the rock. "Why are _you_ here?"

The older lion advanced forwards, his large paws delicately crossing over the rough surface of the ground. He never paused, except to look with interest at the impaled, still figure of the hyena, and even that was brief. In moments he was at his younger brother's side, gazing down at him with a rueful expression.

"Let… let me…" the dark lion fumbled around with his words, which was clearly unusual for him. Mufasa knew this and perked up in confusion, Scar taking a soft breath before continuing, "… just go, Muffy. I want to die in peace."

"No." Mufasa reprimanded him simply, face hardening. "Don't you talk like that. I'm not going to lose you like the rest of my family. Not again. No more."

"… Why bother, brother?"

Scar sighed with a hint of weary cynicism—even if he had killed the hyena, it did not mean that he would survive, or that he was safe from the others who were sure to follow. Not to mention Mufasa or any of the lionesses, who were unpredictable… and not exactly who he wanted to be around, either. Since he could not escape, all he wanted was the next best thing: to be alone and slip away peacefully. For he knew that he wouldn't live on without intervention. Mufasa was completely aware of this, his face frozen in extreme concern as he closely studied his brother's body.

"My god…" he whispered, seemingly on the verge of tears as he thrust his head into Scar's matted black mane and ignored the blood encrusted in it. "… What on earth did they _do_ to you?"

…

…_What on earth did _I _do to you…?_

* * *

><p><em>This is it - both your guys' Christmas present and a celebration of one year on this site (as of last Sunday ;o). That's one down and more to come, and Feliz Navidad a todos. <em>

_Here's to making 2013 another great year~_

_Twin (:_


	28. Thunder and Lightning

_**A/N: **Hey, everyone. xD I know it's been nearly a month since I've said anything, but, you know... stuff happens. -.- I don't think I've stayed up past 1 AM since around Christmas three weeks ago, which majorly sucks because I get most of my writing done on weekends between about 10 PM and 4 o'clock in the morning. So this chapter consequently took me forever, as I was working with the scraps of time I had on school nights. As it's 11 now, I'm pushing it as it is._

_But enough about me. I feel pretty good about this chapter... maybe you will too. :p_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Yes, that's a good observation about writing/filming violence. I remember people lamenting over how to keep the Hunger Games PG-13 or whatever it was while sticking to the books. Personally, I didn't find either to be that violent, but that's probably just me. xD Oh, and you can thank Sophocles for the brittle steel analogy - he invented it about 2500 years before I used it. lol And merry (very late) Christmas back at you. ;)_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Yes, this is that chapter which is a little similar to Brother, without my intention of course... XD Glad you liked the chapter and thanks for the compliment. :p Ooooh, did I hear Brand X in there somewhere? *runs to Youtube* lol And long reviews are okay, so don't worry. Alas, it's a good comeback, but my mind probably wasn't in the mode for coming up with funny lines at the time. x) Haha. Enjoy this chapter._

**_mom: _**_Yeah, I didn't think I'd ever write anything that would make anyone cry, but you know... I'm just getting warmed up! x) *rolls up sleeves* Geez, I've got a long way to go in this..._

**_Simba1928: _**_Or should I say **ScarFan97**? XD *high-five/four* lol Anyways, thank you for the review - I hope you keep reading. I'd say Merry Christmas back, but it's been a few weeks. x) _

**_pokeking95: _**_N__o worries, it's nice to see you back. XD Gracias para el review... Yo pensé que lo segundo fue un poco demasiado largo, pero estuvo la escena más accionado hace muchos capítulos. So yes, it was long. x) In any case, I am glad you liked 26, especially since you don't strike me as the emotional type (and you said as much yourself just now... lol). More Mufasa and Scar this chapter. _

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**__Don't worry, I figured that most of my readers were doing things over Christmas, or (in your case) dealing with fritzy computers. And I understand that that stuff is in priority over the following of a Lion King fanfiction by a random author over the internet. XD So don't worry about it. lol Glad you liked the chapter. :p And yes, mother and son are united once again. ;)__

**__Guest: __**__If you're still reading and have come to this point, then I'd like to thank you for taking the time to leave a little comment. I too am a fan of Scar, though I'm sure that's obvious by now. So high-five mystery person! ;p__

* * *

><p>It was perfect, wonderful… such divine serendipity that Mufasa had found him in that cave when he did. He alone would save his life, he alone would bring him to his former glory. Mufasa was his savior, his hero… and the only thing keeping him from death.<p>

Oh, how easy it would have been if those had been the thoughts coursing through his dreary mind. But no, it wasn't. They weren't. He knew his brother better than that. There was something else at play here, something he knew too well. And as the older lion loped about frantically in the dark savanna, practically all he could hear were his own cynical thoughts beating him silently.

Domination. That's all this was. His brother was surely trying to dominate him, to show that he was the better lion and that he, in comparison, was only a hubris-filled, pusillanimous, greedy heathen. That surely he would need to change. He could almost hear his brother's voice now; surely, once he woke up—provided he didn't die, of course—then Mufasa would be right there to lecture him.

Maybe, though, he would die. Maybe he would simply and painlessly slip away from the half-conscious stupor he was now in. Never again would he have to lay his eyes on his brother, or on anything else, ever again. Everything would stop; he would cease to be anymore. Alas, why should he hope for anything different? It was all over.

A part of him wanted to die out of spite, to show his brother that, no matter what he did, _he _was in control. Mufasa may have been the king, and he may have had power over many individuals and outcomes… but he himself, as his younger brother, would be inviolable. Sure, Mufasa would try to save him. He would rage and yell when he found that there was nothing he could do. Yet no matter how much he screamed and begged, death—once it happened—was permanent and irreversible. It was something he could not dominate. No lion could. No being could. And once he was dead, their ties would be severed. They would be finished.

He closed his eyes, feeling faint… he knew that, absently, he was hoping it would speed up his death. Yet his mind, foggy though it may have been, was still lucid enough to hear his brother's absent remarks, his vain entreaties as he probed the savanna frantically. The older sibling's back was being worked into a warm sweat, giving Scar the unpleasant, sticky feeling which sweat always had associated with it.

"No, please, no. Where am I? Help! HELP! Somebody! No…"

He paused, and Scar moaned faintly from his place as he lay sprawled across Mufasa's bony vertebrae. The older lion panted for breath, himself also wounded—it was nothing of a serious magnitude, of course, but still enough to make running sap more of his strength than usual. He gently nudged Scar's flank, as if double-checking that he was still even alive, and shifted his shoulders slightly to adjust him. Then he was on his way again, probably to Rafiki's tree.

He didn't want to go to the shaman; besides, he could only guess at what sort of horrible things would be done to him there. He would much rather die while he still had the chance, though he didn't say as much. While he hated the idea, the younger lion really had no choice in the matter. Where he was going, whether he lived or died… his entire fate rested in the hands of other individuals. His own will was independent and uninvolved.

Suddenly Mufasa froze, Scar nearly tumbling off as the older lion halted and stood stock still… the younger lion could sense his elder brother's hair bristling under him, could hear the claws as they flexed briefly… The golden lion had keen senses, and he always seemed to know when something was amiss. And if Mufasa was this startled, it was a cause for alarm. Scar's breath caught, and a tense moment ensued. It was almost as if the two of them were waiting for something, though neither of them knew what it was.

_BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOM…!_

Mufasa growled as a fierce thunderclap sounded from the horizon, his blood-matted fur still wildly puffing out under his brother's limp form. Dark clouds billowed in from overhead, the whole atmosphere being displaced into something so much darker, so much more ominous…

"Stay with me, brother." Mufasa turned around and ran faster than ever, Scar inadvertently plunging his claws into his host's hide to brace himself. Yet despite this, the golden lion looked lost in the night. He would have barely been able to see his paw in front of his face—how, then, could he find anything else? The air too was dreadfully still, with not a sound piercing the heavy aura around them. His smell, his aural capacities… all abated. It was as though he'd been plunged into the color black itself, or a pool of ink, or _something_. All was dark, and silent, and still…

Until, of course, the pelting of the rain began to sound like a rumbling drum from all around them. Big, wet drops splattered on Scar's nose, the lion reflexively tensing his face up in discomfort. Yet more and more came, heedless of his irritation, and began to soak the lonely, miserable pair. The sharp scent of blood and sweat was diluted, the rain having a sort of atoning quality to it. Scar's shredded, smarting hide was also soothed, giving the deluge an overall pleasant effect… yet at the same time, his pelt did little to insulate him, and the wetness of the rain easily saturated his flesh and chilled him down to the marrow. Mufasa also appeared irritated, his billowing, pillow-like mane becoming matted and glistening with droplets of pure, crystalline water. The younger lion's vision blurred, giving the shining, glimmering flame that was Mufasa's mane the appearance of being alight with thousands of shimmering stars.

Something was wrong with his head; Askari must have hit him one too many times. Yet his mind, now more unconscious than it was aware, was content to stare at the pretty, luminescent pearls of moisture dripping and rolling off his chilled brother's mane.

Pearly stars. Yes. Thousands and thousands of millions of opalescent orbs, aligning and twisting into rivulets of shining raindrops. He almost swore he could see his reflection, distorted by the globular shape of the perfect, hyaline droplets, before they dripped across the surface of his elder brother's hair. Alas, everything blended together, and his thoughts became more and more incoherent as his consciousness slipped away. But at that moment, as far as he was concerned, the dazzling scene in front of him had to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen…

"…Mufasa…" he drawled incoherently in the midst of his stupor, "have I ever told you that your mane is absolutely gorgeous? …A gift from heaven, I must… must… admit to you..."

Mufasa stopped again to catch his heavy, labored breath, strength waning yet again. The large lion leaned against a rock, teeth gritted and tongue prepared to lick a particularly aggravating wound on his chest. Yet when he heard that, he had no choice but to pause and look dubiously over his shoulder, countenance tensed into an expression of fear. It burned silently in his eyes as he studied his limp brother, knowing that the situation was getting worse.

Scar had never said anything like that before, and under normal circumstances he certainly never would. Mufasa was very familiar with his brother's personality: not only was he cold and concealed in his emotions and in the outward expression of his opinions, he—unlike most lions—refused to believe in the heavens and in higher powers. That, he always said, was for the fickle masses, and his lack of following in their traditions reflected his cynical nature. A gift from heaven? Such words would never leave his tongue, at least not sincerely. Even his increasingly comatose torpor would be unlikely to change that. And while the nature of his satirical, biting sarcasm was omnipresent, Mufasa, for once, doubted that he was being facetious due to the nature of his laughing.

Laughing. He was giggling: cackling like a crazed soul. And as little as he knew about medicine, Mufasa did understand the effects of blood loss, of delirium… and that certainly would have explained his younger brother's sudden and uncharacteristic change in behavior, as well as the diluted blood which was still running down his back and sides. He looked over him quickly, reminded of the sheer quantity and volume of it flowing from his wounds, which would have been even more sanguine and disfigured were it not for the torrents of rain upon them. Perhaps worst of all, however, was the wound on his stomach.

Mufasa hadn't noticed it at first, being too previously preoccupied with maneuvering Scar across his shoulders and exiting the cave. He had noticed the surprisingly warm feel of bloodshed on his back, but hadn't paid it much mind. Now he could see clearly that the cut—originally considered by both to be a mere nick—was actually a deep, gaping gash extending from his chest and curving towards one of his flanks. The hide and flesh were torn apart and rent, exposing the gleaming, bloody sheets of muscle underneath: at this point, it was clear that that was the only thing between the elements and his intestines.

He knew that if he didn't try harder, it would only be a matter of time before Scar bled out… alas, Mufasa couldn't help but be moved to pity, seeing him in such a state. Yet this time his resulting grimace and his ultimate reaction weren't marked by fear—all that came was determination, a desire to protect. For more than everything else, Mufasa felt guilty. More than anything else, he was responsible for this… for all of this… in more than one way.

"I've got you, brother," his low voice rumbled, the younger lion barely noticing his words—only the timbre of Mufasa's voice permeated his dizzy mind, though he still felt oddly cognizant of what was happening. That same jaded promise, that same familiar oath… somehow, in an almost clairvoyant way, he knew it was resurfacing yet again. And though his thoughts were already too hazy to make anything of it, he still felt mild resentment for what was coming.

"And I'm not…" the golden lion let out a breath, stung slightly with volatile and long-buried emotions. Scar's eyes had long since closed, yet his ears instinctively pricked to pick up that phrase. Deep inside, ingrained in his memory, he knew the rest. His mind could still finish it, in synchronization with his sibling, despite the long lengths of time past and his current mental dullness.

"… Going to let anything happen to you."

_I'm not going to let anything happen to you._

_BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOM…!_

In the savanna, wet and dripping from the rains, two lions stood adjacent to a rock, one being carried by the other. One moment they were there, sonorous thunder strikes illuminating their still figures. One moment they stood, silent…

And the next they were gone. For no matter what happened, the invigorated Mufasa would not yield… even if all of Kilimanjaro was in their way. He would save his brother—and for that, there was no time to lose.

* * *

><p>It was a scene. A memory, replayed by the déjà vu that lay within his clouded mind. Subconsciously he had made the connection, and as the colors and shapes around him shifted surreally, he felt the odd sensation of being in another place and time. So different and so long ago, yet so similar to his current predicament. Indeed, it was a memory he had not recalled in years—a part of him was half surprised that he even remembered it at all. Apparently, somehow, he must have… in some barren, unreachable part of his mind, his being still held on to it against his will.<p>

There was no reason for him to do so. It was all just silly, looking back on it. Back when he used to be so naïve. Back when he still believed in his brother, when he still trusted in the veracity of all his seemingly innocuous lies. Back when they loved. Oh, he'd learned so much since then. If only he'd known before, if only he'd done something… but he didn't, and he hadn't—not in that innocent time.

And suddenly he wasn't on Mufasa's back anymore. His memory… it was so clear, so lucid in spite of the curbing of his thoughts. It seemed as though he was living it a second time, save for his vague knowledge of what would happen and lack of control over his actions. He did nothing, and was able to do nothing, as his bleary consciousness drifted from one point in time to another, leaving him helpless to whatever his mind would choose to assault him with. Alas, there were worse memories… but it didn't change anything. His past was still something he wanted to forget, as there was no point in revisiting it or in pining after an existence that would never again be. And he certainly had no intention of opening up old wounds, injuries which had taken so long to scar over and from which he had never fully been liberated.

He was jogging, in a place quite near to his present locale. It was also an equally dark night, with thick clouds covering the sky like a blanket and blotting out the stars. Only the occasional light from the moon breaking through the cover illuminated their grassy surroundings, which were so thick and green that it was quite hard for a cub his size to pick his way through such a maze of foliage.

"Erff… Muffy! Muffy, wait!"

The dark cub started to feel a bit uneasy, being so lost in the darkness. His brother had gone ahead, and now he couldn't see him… he hated that. If he'd been as fast and adventurous as Mufasa, surely he wouldn't have been so disoriented in the first place. He stumbled through the underbrush, deciding to try again. Surely he couldn't have wandered off too far.

"Muffy! Muffy, this isn't funny!" he paused, though no sounds returned to his ears. Only the hooting of a faraway owl ensured him that there was another living being in the enveloping darkness… though its rather haunting call did little to soothe him.

"Mufasa! Brother, please come back! Com—OOF!"

He suddenly fell to the ground as a formidable force collided with his chest. The little cub drew back in fear and closed his eyes tight, his scrunched nose betraying his aversion. Indeed, he was about to cry out for help, but his sensible side quickly realized that that wouldn't do any good. After all, there was not much point in calling to his brother for help when his brother was the one sitting coolly on top of him.

"… I was right in front of you, Taka." Mufasa studied him calmly, an adroit expression on his face. "The underbrush is just thick here."

"Oh. Well." Taka's face became wrought with curiosity, puzzled by all the enigmas his brother seemed to be masking. "How come I couldn't smell you?"

"Easy. You see this mud?" Mufasa held up his paw, a thick globule of filth dripping off of his matted, grimy fur. "I went to the riverbank. It's a lot easier to mask your scent when you're all wet and dirty." He finished his thought matter-of-factly, basking in the expression on his younger brother's face.

Alas, Mufasa knew so many things, and their father did as well. It was clear that it would be in Taka's benefit to learn as much as he could from his older brother… who never seemed to stop amazing him. He was like his older protector, his best friend, his… idol…

Taka yawned briefly. They'd been out for quite a while, and it had been a long day of playing and hunting practice. He was ready to go home.

"Mufasa, can we go back now? Dad said to be back before it got too dark."

The older lion looked up briefly, eyes suddenly narrowing. He'd gotten a little carried away, and they were farther out than they usually were. But he didn't let it worry him. With a calm expression, he refused to let any dubious emotions show through. After all, they still had time, and he would need to learn to assume control of a situation if he were to ever be king someday.

"Sure, Taka. Which way do you want to go?"

"I don't know. Which way is home?" Taka responded flatly with another yawn, tongue unfurling as he stretched placidly.

"Well, it's…" Mufasa paused midsentence, suddenly feeling guilty. Oddly enough, the night was _darker _than usual… he couldn't even see Pride Rock, the erratic from which their kingdom was centralized. As weird as that was. He squinted hard and put up his paw as if blocking out the light... but that wasn't necessary, namely because there was none.

Mufasa simply couldn't see through the grass and the darkness. But he still didn't worry—once he got out of this tangled mess of greenery, it would be easy to find home. They couldn't have gone that far, and Pride Rock was fairly hard to miss.

"Let's get out of this grass first, Taka."

"You mean you don't know?" The younger lion frowned, seeing through his vaguely vacillating nature and assuming the worst. "Are we lost?"

"No, Taka, we're fine. You'll see. When's the last time I've let anything bad happen to us?"

"… Well…" he contradicted.

"We'll be fine," Mufasa reassured him. "Now come on. We've got to find a way out of here. Follow me."

"Alright," Taka nodded complacently, trailing silently behind the proud and self-assured step of his older sibling. He didn't dare ask questions—his brother doubtlessly knew what he was doing, even if they seemed to be passing the same places at seemingly random intervals. They had to find an exit eventually. Indeed, all of this was going well and good…

Until the rain came. Mufasa had just exited from the last bits of tall grass, the size of the stalks diminishing to a level he could see over. Yet by now, it was even darker—well past the time they were supposed to have returned to Pride Rock. What was worse was that the coldness of the night, which was more profound than it usually was, had acted upon the vapor in the air, causing condensation. Cold droplets of frost and dew had gathered on the fronds of plants, and misty clouds of fog had gathered into thick, murky masses, making it practically impossible to see anything. Mufasa's whiskers and fur were also not immune, both being covered with sparkling beads of chilled moisture. Overall, the still and freezing night had only furthered their increasingly miserable states, with fog closing in around their pelts and home nowhere in sight. It was hard to even find visible landmarks that could lead them back.

"Mufasa…" Taka asked meekly, his voice betraying righteous fear of the night. "… Where are we?"

Even here, things could be dangerous—princes though they were, they were still cubs.

The older lion sighed in reply. "… I don't know." There was no point in lying—he didn't know where they were, nor how to find a way home. He paused for a moment, deep in thought, until he heard the whimpering of his chilled, shivering brother.

"Ah, there's no need to do that, Taka." Mufasa approached the dark cub, wrapping one of his protective limbs around the latter's body.

"I'm afraid."

"I know. But don't be. You'll be okay." He sighed, looking around in desperation. "… You'll be okay," he repeated, "I'm here."

He held him for a moment, trying to comfort his shaking sibling. For a moment all was still as they stood there, content in each other's arms, eyes closed and breathing quiet. And yet, as long as they were out in the open, the moment could not last for very long. Finally Mufasa was forced to open his eyes again, moved somewhat to pity at seeing his brother in such a state. The desire to protect him, as his older sibling, flared up. Taka continued to cling to his arm, a submissive and concerned look on his face.

But somehow, suddenly, the fog began to dissipate. It was still dark, no doubt, but slowly the thick vapors started to swirl around and float upwards like drifts of smoke. He sat there, puzzled, before he heard the distant and distinct sound of the rains.

Rains. There had not been any rain in weeks… when it had come last, it had merely been a drizzle. Yet this, as he could already tell, was a downpour. And though he had not lived long enough to fully familiarize himself with the turning of the seasons, he instantly knew that this storm, and the increasingly humid days preceding it, were the beginnings of the wet season. He braced himself, though the sheer quantity of the subsequent raindrops was unlike anything he had expected. It only took a few moments for the deluge to pick up and the drops to fall full force, the cold air doing nothing but augmenting their chilling effect.

They had to find shelter, immediately. This would not do.

"Come on. Run, Taka, run!" Mufasa nudged him to his feet, speeding into a quick lope. He didn't know what he was looking for, and neither did his little brother. Anything that would get them out of the rain would be adequate. Alas, he was beginning to doubt that they would be able to return to Pride Rock in such conditions: weathering out the storm in a safe shelter sounded much more appealing. For although the fog had cleared, he was still unable to catch a glimpse of Pride Rock or any other familiar landmark.

Taka ran alongside his brother, equally desirous of shade and a place to rest under. His dark pelt quickly became saturated, the dirt under his paws turning into thick cakes of mud which splattered up his legs and even stained the soft, cream fur on his belly. The loud sound of the deluge was frightening in itself, but suddenly his fur bristled from an unknown stimulus, heart pounding in his ears as he surged forwards faster than ever…

_BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!_

The lion practically leapt out of his skin as something akin to a monstrous growl rumbled across the horizon. A practically blinding flash had simultaneously appeared, illuminating every point around them for a brief, almost nonexistent moment. Inwardly, Taka shuddered as he stopped, his breath suddenly heavy from fright and fatigue as his coat became sweaty.

"Come on, Taka. We have to keep going!" Mufasa had to yell to be heard over the rain, which did nothing to ease the chaotic and frightening situation. Alas, neither of them had seen lightning before—even Mufasa appeared terrified, though he did his best to conceal his panic.

"I… I can't," the younger lion stammered, but a determined Mufasa would not take that as an answer. If they didn't find a place to hide quickly, the rain could very well soak them to the bone and subsequently afflict them with colds, chills, hypothermia or… death…

"We have to go! Run!" Mufasa nudged him in the flank, trying to incite him into continuing, but the fear was still lodged there, preventing him from moving. Their eyes locked in desperation, both of them panting and cold under the downpour.

"If you're going to be king one day, you're going to have to deal with things worse than this. You're going to have to fight, Taka! Come on, keep running!"

The younger lion finally plucked up and walked forwards diffidently, deciding to trust his elder brother once again. There was no reason for Mufasa to steer him wrong, and nothing for him to do but entrust himself to his leadership. And though he never said as such, he didn't doubt that Mufasa would be the king of the two of them. He simply didn't argue, taking his brother's encouragement as it was.

"There you go! Faster, faster! Did Roho give up when the hyenas attacked his family at the Battle of the Great Pass?" Taka panted, trying to keep up with his passionate brother. "Did Skauti retreat when he was single-handedly attacked by a horde of wild dogs? No! So run, Taka, run!"

He did as he was told and willed himself to move faster, lips curving into something which could almost be called a smile—though it wasn't quite simply due to his exhaustion and discomfort. Yet somewhere he could feel his confidence build, knowing that the blood his heart was pumping had come down from those heroic lions of the past. That he himself was descended from such noble kings. His ancestors were so magnanimous, so stouthearted… and his brother had inherited that as well. Mufasa was a leader at heart, and he would support and follow him to the ends of the earth.

They ran for several more minutes, both of them thoroughly lathered into exhaustion when they had finally approached what appeared to be an old den. Taka stopped, jubilant at this discovery, and was about to run inside. His brother, however, lagged behind cautiously, quickly studying the landscape and ensuring that this place was not already inhabited by a predator.

Indeed, whatever it was, it was perfect… albeit small. The rock roof sloped slightly, allowing the rains to pour off of it and down the slight incline leading to the entrance, which was little more than a dark hole… but it was no matter. What was important was the warm, snug cavern it led into. And once he was convinced that there was no inherit threat to them in this structure, nothing was able to stop both Mufasa and Taka from crawling into it, exhausted.

_BOOOOOOOOOOM!_

The younger cub couldn't help but yelp inadvertently with shock. The foreign sound of the thunder terrorized him, and he didn't even know where he was. It was all too frightening, all too confusing…

But he still had his brother, as he was fortunate enough to have stayed together with him. He honestly didn't know what he would have done had they been unable to find one another. But that hadn't happened—everything was alright now. They would return home the next day. Everything would be okay.

"You're okay, brother. I'm right here, remember?" Mufasa spoke up, the harshness of his breath barely bridled. He too appeared shaken by the thunder… and though the soft patter of the rain on the rock outside was somewhat soothing, the cold stone floor did little to warm their cold, chilled bodies. Sleep was all but impossible at this point. The pair of them shivered silently, Taka facing the wall and Mufasa staring absently at the glimmering rains illuminated by the occasional streaks of lightning.

"You think Mom misses us…?" Taka pondered absently, hoping to end the silence.

"I know she does." Mufasa replied with absolutely no hesitation, studying the building water level. Absolutely no life appeared to be outside their den—every animal with even a shred of common sense or instinct had retreated into any shelter that the savanna could offer. For all he knew, they were the only lions in miles. And they were likely to stay that way until… well, whenever the storm was over. Which could be days, if the flood stories told by the lionesses were anything to go by. But no matter. They may have still been too young to really fend for themselves, but Mufasa wasn't daunted. He saw it as a challenge instead of an obstacle.

"We should not have traveled so far. Our parents _did_ say to stay within the boundaries they marked for us…" he continued, not without the slightest hint of accusation. As much as he loved his brother, he could be a bit brash and cheeky at times. After all, it was _his _idea to continue 'out-of-bounds' to track some wayward cheetahs. Taka had insisted that they stay closer—if they had, chances were they would not have gotten lost. But alas, what did it matter? He simply couldn't stay mad at him for long, as he always had the best intentions.

"Why are you worrying, Taka? I thought you were the brave, tree-climbing, no-nonsense _panther _of the two of us? The one who knows oh-so much?" Mufasa teased, retreating from his vantage point by the entrance and drawing towards his brother. The latter only remained silent.

"… In all seriousness…" he started softly, "do you remember the promise I made to you, little brother?" He nuzzled Taka gently, though he could feel him inadvertently tense up.

"Oh, _please_, Mufasa. I'm not a _baby_," the younger lion turned away and attempted to assume an irritated expression, though his brother's smile at him was all too charming. He only wanted what was best for him, and they both knew that… even when it was a bit much.

"Come on, say it."

"_No_," he snapped back, though the hints of a grin were forming on his face. "I'm not. You think you can just be reckless and silly and then win me over with that winning smi—ACK!"

Mufasa chuckled slightly as he shook himself dry, the little drops of moisture shutting his brother up. Yet as the younger lion curled up in the corner, paws covering his face, Mufasa felt obligated to comfort him… he stretched out and lay beside the lion, soft paws embracing him. And though Taka did not appear amused, Mufasa could also tell that he was grateful for his company.

Alas, Mufasa's body was already mostly dry, and the younger brother quickly found himself cuddling up to the warm, clumpy fur, trying to expel the last of the muck and wet and cold. His shivering body and his rapid breath both slowed, jaws gaping in another yawn as he slowly relaxed. Perhaps he would sleep after all, the fears in his heart slowly melting away as he felt his big, strong brother at his side and all around him. The warm fur, the gentle smile, the soft breath… he closed his eyes and pressed himself into it, simply enjoying it. There was no more shivering, no more whimpering; nor was there any need for such things. He was warm now, and safe. That was all he could think as he drifted off into sleep, his protector following suit as he rested his golden head on the little lion's neck.

"_Just remember, Taka,_" Mufasa whispered gently in his ear, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"_No matter what happens, as long as I'm here, I'm never going to let anything happen to you…" _he sighed, nuzzling him and letting his eyes close in exhaustion. "… _I promise you that._" He yawned in finality, everything falling silent save for the impact of the raindrops above them. Yet despite the fury of the storm, they were warm and dry within…

_BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!_

Off in the distance, another thunderbolt rumbled, its wrathful echoes reverberating throughout the spacious savanna. Animals cowered in their dens, creatures scuttled deeper into their holes… yet try as it might, it did not rouse either of the two lion brothers from their sleep… For neither of them paid it any mind.

* * *

><p><em>Trampled has reached 40 faves! Yay! XD (If you haven't done so already, you can add another... or be the lucky 40th person to follow this fic :p). <em>

_So what do you think? A cute, innocent brother moment, before everything kind of fell apart? XD Any speculations on why things changed, or when, or how? Leave a comment, or talk amongst yourselves or something... hehe. Your choice. _

_Oh, and if you like really dark, angsty AU's (well, you _must_ like AU's if you are here... but as far as darkness, think this fic amplified about tenfold), then you should try reading Thus Always, another fic I have started. Only two chapters are up, and updates are sporadic... but give it a shot if you're feeling adventurous! That will be all._

_Vayan con Dios!_

_Twin (:_


	29. Before the Dawn

_**A/N:**_

_It's been over a month since I last updated. But, as usual, I typed up about 90% of the chapter in 10% of that time._

_... Not really, but you get what I mean. This is the first time I've gotten to sit down and write for a while. So I wrapped this up. Now I only have to work on the MLK one-shot which I need to write by Sunday._

_Review time... even though I got more faves than reviews last chapter. O.o Thanks to all 8 (?) of you who added this fic to that list of yours. :p These responses will be short... it's late. x.x_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Yeah, you guys liked that part, didn't you? XD But come on, Mufasa _does _have a beautiful mane - how could he _not _love it? lol Have fun this chapter. :p_

**_pokeking95: _**_Well, I already PMed you your reply. More about them will come in time - I don't want to show all of my hand too early, you know? Rest assured I tried to avoid the cliches. ;)_

**_Scar97: _**_Yeah, my onomatopoeia of lightning does look weird, now that you mention it. XD lol Glad you liked those sections in the rain. And those are some interesting predictions - you'll have to keep reading to find out! :) _

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Yeah, I'm not used to writing fluff... like, at all. xp So I just went ahead and hoped for the best, you know? I liked the one you did in Brother with Scar and Sarabi in the storm - it was cute. :p Overall, I'm glad you liked it._

**_mom: _**_Yep, sanguine. M__ethinks I've been influenced a mote by the Bard of Avon. XD At least, I think he used sanguine in his plays... I know he used choler a lot. :3 I might've learned sanguine elsewhere._

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_No problem! Glad you liked their little anecdotal scene. XD Hope you enjoy this chapter, even despite its relative lack of cuteness._

_*cracks knuckles* Well, let's get this show on the road!_

_..._

* * *

><p>Thunder and lightning, roaring pain and deafening shrieks… it was all the same to him. Everything was all the same to him here, at this time, in this place, under these circumstances. All his surroundings were blurred, the milky stars forming streaks across the uniform milieu. Apart from them, the entirety of what was around him was dark, shadowy, and eerily foreboding. Not to mention he couldn't remember how he'd gotten into this tree…<p>

That too—at least, as far as he _could _recall—was but another bout of screaming and useless shouting, both on his part and, to some extent, that of his peers… whoever they had been. Then he'd been hit on the head with some sort of stick, and that was the last snippet that remained of how he'd ascended there.

He could place, if vaguely, the indolent, dream-like torpor he'd experienced back in that stalactite-ridden cave. Where everything had been blurry and he was peacefully slipping away. What exactly had that been, that odd state of half-consciousness? A curious thing indeed!

Needless to say, it was no more, especially when every move of his only seemed to pierce through him more. It was as though his violent thrashing was ripping himself apart, which was probably why they were all over him. He was no longer numb to the pain, and now it was assailing him in horrid torrents. He could do nothing but cry out and continue to struggle, instinctively trying to escape their claustrophobic and uncomfortably-close embrace.

Yet, through all of what he was enduring, he was still somehow able to make out the commanding tone of the mandrill shaman.

"Come on, Mufasa! I need you to _hold heem down!_"

"I... I…" his older brother stammered, bracing himself as the captive lion threw a particularly violent kick in his direction. Anything to escape, anything to elude their hold on him was acceptable. Indeed, he didn't even care how much it hurt. All he wanted was to get the hell away from there.

"_I'm trying!_" the golden blur above him finally finished his sentence, trying his utmost to pin the clawing, swiping appendages to the ground. Scar's pupils narrowed to mere black dots, all his energy and adrenaline being directed towards his fight. He was deathly afraid, though of what he was not certain—all he could feel was the pain and the cold, the blood loss and the exhaustion which were slowly rendering his vision fuzzy.

"Trying? My grandmoder could do a better job den that, Mufasa!"

Oddly enough, Scar could not see or even place the position of the mandrill. He seemed to be moving, or perhaps at every place around him at once. One moment he could feel the old, wizened hands grabbing at his paw, and the next he was jangling through some old containers in search of something…

But alas, there was no time to waste. And with such a troublesome patient in their midst, he needed all the help he could get.

"Msaada!"

"Yes, Master Shaman?" The bird responded promptly, no doubt shaken by the uproar and wired with confusion and a sense of dutiful urgency. In a moment, the mandrill had leapt back to his spot by Scar's side, examining his writhing body as closely as was possible.

"Hee's awake again," he explained briefly, cautiously probing just a _little_ too close around his shredded hind leg, "I'm goina need de root from the—"

"RAAAAAAAAAAAH! STOP! _STOP_!"

Mufasa shrunk back from his resisting brother, his expression confused and distraught. He wanted so badly to end the hurt that his younger sibling was experiencing, though this was the only way to do so. At the current moment, however, it didn't seem as though any facet of the situation would be ameliorated any time soon. He could only hope that the younger lion wouldn't blame him for his pain.

But that—as well as any other coherent thought—was far from the dark lion's mind. As far as his terrorized, panicked self was concerned, _everyone _around him was a threat. Every shred of primeval animal instinct was raging in full force, and there was no distinguishing between friend or foe, ally or enemy when that happened. His throes were directed at all of them… for anyone getting in the way of escape or an ease of pain was an immediate hindrance to him.

"T-the what, Master Shaman?" Msaada inquired timidly, clearly fraught and shaken by the lion's fierce roars. The incoherent screams from the bloody victim continued, and Rafiki—who was poking around the delicate wounds as gently as he could—had to strain to make himself clear over the ruckus.

"_I said, _de root from de—"

_BBBOOOOOOOOMM!_

"_What_?"

"DE PAINKILLERS!" the old mandrill shouted, a kick barely missing his head as he looked at the bird over his shoulder, the racket of suddenly-falling objects greeting his ears as Scar's paw collided with several precariously-perched containers of medication, "_get me de painkillers! Hurry!_"

Msaada fluttered off, leaving the two lions and the shaman alone. For a brief moment, the canopy rustled, the clacking and clamor of objects steadily increasing as the bird's search intensified. Neither of them paid it any mind, both Mufasa and Rafiki having their hands literally and metaphorically full.

"There's nothing, Master Shaman! We used the last of the rico root on that elephant!"

Rafiki's brow furrowed, his expression looking briefly miffed, though he was unfazed. With the same quick, diligent manner he used with all his patients, he barked out another order without taking his eyes off of Scar.

"Den hurry! You know where you can find more!"

And like that, the bird was gone, off towards the jungles to find the appropriate herbal remedies. Rafiki took a step back and sighed, his uncharacteristically somber, grave look alerting Mufasa that something was dreadfully wrong.

"It will take heem a while to get back…" he spoke more to himself than to the other lion, his usual absent-minded attitude showing through, "… and dat means dat…"

The mandrill trailed off incoherently, rustling through some objects without much interest.

"Dis is bad… vedy bad. I will need to stop de bleeding, or hee'll die... …Mufasa!"

The lion by that name looked up, his vision fleering halfway between his fighting brother and the shaman.

"Now," he began very slowly and calmly, as though trying not to panic him… though with Mufasa, that only had the opposite effect. "I will need you to _hold heem _in place, or he will be hurt vedy, vedy bad. Do you understand?" He reached over and recovered an object from off the branch, a sigh shaking his senescent, weary figure.

Mufasa stiffened up defensively, now extremely unsettled. His eyes narrowed, gazing into what the mandrill was holding.

It was a rock. At least, Mufasa had always thought of the foreign material as some sort of rock. He had only seen it a few times before, usually as impure shards contained within hulking, mountain boulders. But this was pure, and it was lengthened into some sort of rod. The color was a nondescript grey, yet as a brief flash of lightning illuminated the entire scene around him, it suddenly lit up and glimmered like the pearly sheen on fish scales. As to where or how he'd gotten it, Mufasa could only guess. The shaman quietly placed it on the ground, before suddenly breaking off half of a coconut and filling it carefully and conscientiously with some sort of foul-smelling substance.

The lion cocked his brow, and even Scar seemed to be quieting down in apprehension. Either that or the fight was draining out of him. The dark lion thrust his head about, trying to focus his dizzy sight on the dexterous primate, who was hunched over his handiwork. And then, with no warning at all, he grabbed a piece of flint and struck it against a rock which had somehow materialized in his other hand.

There was a spark. And from that spark came fire. Mufasa's hairs bristled, as he and Scar were both naturally afraid of fire… whether they actually knew acutely of it or not. It was simply lion nature. Yet though he had, gratefully, only experienced fire a few times in his life, there was no doubt that he had never seen it so controlled, so small, and so… _tame. _It burned and glowed and danced, quickly growing as its master carefully studied it. When he was sure it was hot enough, he warily picked up the rod and teased the flame with the end of it, never taking his eyes off the shimmering light which had, with its brilliance, thrown a ruddy light over the entire scene and given it a haunting, frightening aura. Shadows twirled and morphed about them, Mufasa's own hard features being cast between the light from the coconut and the darkness outside.

"_Msiwaogope__,_" he breathed quietly, watching as the end of the rock—instead of being burned like most objects naturally would—was slowly imparted with the fire's powerful glow,_ "__kwa __hofu __unamkandamiza __nguvu_."

"What are you doing?" Mufasa queried, unable to keep the slight twinge of fear out of his voice as the shaman slowly picked up the cold end of his implement... pointing the fiery-orange end at the two lions. Scar again tossed his head about, trying to focus on the approaching figure of the mandrill. He could feel the heat simmering off of the red-hot surface, which did nothing to soothe his wild throes and nervous tension.

"A proverb," he replied matter-of-factly, slowly taking each step. "Now hold steel, de both of you."

"No," Mufasa shot back, "not until I know what you're going to do to him."

The mandrill stopped, saying nothing. On the one hand, Scar was beginning to panic again, no doubt speeding along his demise, and on the other... Rafiki was standing with a dangerous, frightening-looking object. The golden lion tensed up, inadvertently growling at his brother's physician.

"Mufasa, if I do not do thees, he will die."

The lion was quiet. This was a dilemma. Rafiki no doubt knew what he was doing—he'd been his trusted shaman for longer than he could recall, and would have no reason to intentionally harm them. Yet as of late, his ability to hope, his ability to trust... _everything_. It had all been thrown upside down. And now he was trying to save his brother, the last of his family... his son's murderer. Through it all he had to protect him: he had to. He'd failed before, and he couldn't let that happen again. Not this time. He couldn't let him succumb when he'd already tried so hard to save him. And so the question came again.

"What do you want, my friend?"

He gritted his teeth, silently steeling himself, and planted his forepaws deep into the dark lion's shoulders. The elder stood aside and allowed the mandrill to approach his brother, who had felt the heat and pressure and was already wriggling about in fright. Mufasa closed his eyes and bent his proud neck, hoping that then he would not have to witness his brother's suffering anymore... though he did feel like a coward for doing so. If he was not strong enough to witness this, how would his little brother be able to stand whatever it was that Rafiki was going to do to him?

Alas, Scar was the sort of lion who did not do many things. He didn't show much on his exterior. He didn't show affection, or affinity. He didn't socialize freely... at least, as long as he thought he had nothing to gain from it. Even pain—no, _especially _pain—was something he did not express. Scar was not the sort of lion who cried out or screamed in agony, and yet here he was. The sound of it to Mufasa was so unnerving, so uncharacteristically haunting, that he knew something was indeed wrong with him. He wanted to help, though in the end all he did was avert his eyes and allow his brother to suffer alone... or, at least, as alone as he could be when his older brother's forepaws were squeezing against his buckling shoulders.

It should have been a wonder that Mufasa could restrain him, though in truth the whole ordeal lasted but a few moments. The horrible sizzle of the red-hot staff against the younger lion's flesh quickly quieted as the implement cooled, the subject having been shocked into unconsciousness after mere moments. He lay there, his body limp and flaccid across the expanse of the tree. Only the soft rising and falling of his flanks—which were already matted with black, deeply-encrusted layers of freshly-coagulated blood—betrayed that he was still holding on to life at all.

Everything in him told him to run—to run far away, and leave him to his fate in the hands of his friend. Scar didn't need him anymore. He was unconscious, and surely his absence was beneficial: how could he want to see him when... _if_... he woke up again? After what he'd done?

The only thing that kept him there was his acknowledgment of his past errors. He had made that mistake once... why make it yet again when he could learn from it instead?

Mufasa sat there for what could well have been hours. Why, exactly, he wasn't sure—it was doubtful he would wake anytime soon. Only a few occasional moans and stirs punctuated his mostly drowsy, unintentional sleep.

He couldn't help but think that he should have woken up already. But he still lay there, resolutely breathing. The golden lion trailed off in his thoughts, staring at the ebb and flow of the breath in his brother's chest… as though it would suddenly cease were he to take his eyes off of it. That, however, must not have been the case, as he could still hear the dark lion respiring… even as Rafiki took a step in front of him and came in between the two brothers. He hardly seemed to notice him, hunched over in mostly the same position as he had been for the past while. On the horizon, dawn appeared to finally be breaking—but that, too, was beyond his scope of observation.

His wrinkled hands reeked of the liquid he had washed them in: some sort of fermented fluid called _alcohol. _Again, Mufasa had no ideas as to how or why he had come into possession of such substances, much less what they did… but he trusted him, watching as the primate diligently and quickly cleaned and stitched his wounds together with some sort of thread. Finally he paused from his work, standing at his full height and stretching out his old, creaking joints.

"Heh! Would you look at dat, Mufasa? De sun is already on its way here."

He retreated towards the other branches of the tree, though the golden lion only remained in the same position of vigil he had occupied for a good, long while, his uncharacteristic feelings of melancholy aptly expressed by his seemingly indifferent expression. Alas, he had other things to worry about than the dawn, no matter how cheerful its appearance seemed to merit on the part of the shaman.

"How is he? Is he alright?" he queried flatly, not in the mood for subtle equivocations. The other lion's appearance, however, more than spoke for itself.

"Mmmm," the mandrill sighed, his veneer of felicity dissipated and replaced with a grim expression, "I do not know de answer to dat, Mufasa. It seems as though 'ee's not responding vedy well."

He too sat back into a crouching position, idly watching their freshly-bandaged quarry as he lay, as still as a rock, in his seemingly barren stasis. That is, until he moaned once more… and then was silent.

The shaman's brow furrowed, his line of sight discreetly wandering to the branch behind them: the one depicting them, which was still coated in splatters of discolored, blended red-and-black paint. He never cleaned up the mess, as it seemed like an omen to him at the time. Such things were not to be readily dismissed as it was... and then, of course, the two lions had both appeared in his tree just a short time later.

Mufasa didn't know of the incident, though that was probably for the better. In any case, it didn't mean he couldn't consider things from his point of view: Scar was not only a threat to the king personally, but—if the incident was meant to be taken as a sign—he was also a potential menace to the entire balance of the kingdom.

He really shouldn't let a menace like that survive. While his inner sense of service and kindness towards all beings prevented him from forcefully and decisively taking a life like that, it didn't mean he couldn't advise Mufasa that such a death would be for the better.

"Ah, Mufasa," he placed his hand gently on the leonine shoulder, causing the golden king to look up with a distraught expression, "maybe it was not meant to be in de first place. It would be better, more merciful—"

"No," Mufasa snapped simply. "I know what you're saying, my friend, but I won't give up. Please... you can save him, can't you?"

Rafiki would never lie to him. And so it was that he simply told the situation as it was, no embellishment necessary.

"Eet seems to me highly unlikely: it would take a mireecle at dis point. Now, if de heavens will it, dat is a different story, but as far as what I can do..."

Mufasa sighed, craning his head and staring down at the ground absently. With one long closing of his tired, weary eyes, he simply sat in place, trying not to show the emotion which was rapidly bubbling up from very odd places. Alas, the uncomfortable silence lasted for the longest of moments, and it almost seemed as though he intended to end the conversation and fall asleep. To drift away and forget of his problems.

But that was cowardly. And he would not sink quite that low.

"... He saved my life. He risked himself to save me..."

He paused, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say.

Just to what extent was this the truth? Had Scar really leapt fearlessly and altruistically into the fray as he so desperately _wanted _to believe, or was that his romanticized notion of an act that was once again self-centered and motivated by ulterior forces? Did he deserve this much help, this much trust? Was he alive for a reason after all this, or was it just a suitable and just end to a wretched life that could not be preserved any longer?

"Dere is much darkness in his spidit still, Mufasa," he continued for him, as if affirming his previous doubts. "De earth need not be tainted with such darkness."

He walked over to the coconut shell where the flame he had kindled once burned. At this point, however, it was little more than a pile of dark, smoldering ashes and faintly burning embers … almost as though the intensifying sun itself had stolen the very glory and brilliance of its light. He swept the bits of dust and charred coconut into his palm and absently grabbed a flask of water.

"Please, Rafiki. As my friend, try to help him... for me, if not for him. I think… _hope_… that…" he looked over his shoulder at an imaginary object, oddly confused with his words. "I hope that everything will be alright," he finished vaguely, more out of a concern and desire to end the suffering they had all been through more than anything else.

Rafiki laughed, much to his surprise. For when it came to Mufasa, well… the two were quite closely allied with their mutual wisdom and understanding. Yet in this instance, the experienced mandrill was once again the giver of yet another lesson, as though the golden lion king was little more than a curious cub. He picked up his staff, thus completing his renowned figure as the Pridelands' devoted shaman and caregiver, and went to embrace his leonine companion.

"Oh, you misunderstand me, Mufasa." He let go, looking him in the eye before jubilantly picking up the half-shell from the ground. "I never said we would give up _hope_. Look at dese coals, my friend."

He readjusted them in his hand, beaming with good-natured eccentricity as the lion bent down and carefully studied the tiny dark pellets of dust. Each of them was a pure, jet black, save for the small, crackling veins of orange fire which still dimly and vainly attempted to poke themselves to the surface. He sniffed one, though his nose quickly crinkled and he withdrew, repelled by the smoky odor.

"What about them?" His nose twitched again, the bits effusing a surprising amount of smoke.

"Ah, don't you see eet, Mufasa? How dead and dark dey look?" he cackled once again, seemingly overtaken by excitement. "Now _watch _dem! Hehehehehe!"

Then, with a huff that was equally strong as it was sudden, the mandrill blew on them, like a gust of wind assailing the little embers. Mufasa reflexively leapt back, surprised by the quick, fiery reemergence of several dancing tongues of flame towards his pelt. They swirled and mingled about with newfound fervor, almost as bright—no, _just _as bright—as they had before. And then Mufasa understood.

The flames were revived, and they were blazing yet again.

* * *

><p><em>I wouldn't get too excited, Mufasa... those who play with fire also get burned. :3<em>

_Anyways, I added that whole analogy about the coals at the last minute. Most of this, while I knew what would happen, _was_ typed in the last two hours-ish. So bear with me on any errors I didn't catch._

_...Yeesh, I think I've already watched one too many action movies in my lifetime. I actually cauterized - and practiced my perception of crude medicine on - a fictional character with these typing fingers. x.x_

_Well, anyways, since 1) this fic was published on Leap Day and 2) I highly doubt I'll be able to update in the next week, we may as well make this the one-year anniversary chapter! *pulls out champagne*_

_Thanks for making this the _**#1 followed **_and_ **#2 favorited** _fic published in 2012! You guys are great! Cheers! *clinks glasses*_

_Hasta les encuentro de nuevo!_

_Twin :)_


	30. Questions without Answers

**_A/N:_**

_Well, we're all back here again for Chapter... wait for it... 30! 30 chapters and still going... x3 I hope it's as good as expected. This chapter is split roughly 50-50 between a flashback and a scene between Mufasa and... others I'm not going to say. Also introducing 2-3 new characters... mostly pretty minor, but I figured I'd tell you all in case you hate OCs or something._

_But hey, I think I've proven by now that my OCs aren't just wish-fullfillment stick figures and actually serve a purpose, so... we can proceed. xD_

**_pokeking95: _**_Yes, it does fly! Heh, I wondered the same thing, but I think the charcoals were still in the coconut shell. As for Mufasa, I'm trying to be careful. His attitude might go back and forth, as the two still have a lot to go through in this fic. And for the accent - I understand what you mean, but that's one of those 'I can't please everyone' deals. Several people say it helps them imagine him speaking, so I'll probably leave it in. :/_

_Oh, and *creo que seas, I believe. XD I had to point that out... that's the whole idea, right? Practice? :3 And thank you. :)_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Just in time for another weekend, and Spring Break (here at least... when is it in Ireland? XD)! Hehe, as always, you're right. It'll be a nice ride. ;) As for what sort of nice I mean, you can figure that out. XD Oh, and that sentence... I remember thinking to go back and finish it after I removed some words, but I guess that never happened. (My spell check switching to Swahili probably helped too x.x) I'll go back and change it soon, but it's *supposed* to say "The only thing that kept him there was his acknowledgment of **his past mistakes**."_

_On a side note, now that I think about it... we've been talking for a year now, haven't we? xD_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Yep, I kind of... *cough*... enjoyed it too. O.o I enjoy writing a lot of scenes I shouldn't, but hey, personally, I'd rather write about someone struggling and screaming in terror or fighting to the death than writing two people talking for like 5 pages. x.x I understand they're both important, but *shrug* I think we writers have all been there. Nice anecdote with your doctor, but... three months? o.o Wow, that's a long time! Hope you get better. :/ I was only sick for four days, but it was still unpleasant. x.x_

**_mom: _**_Foreboding - yes. But we still have a lot of story to go through, so don't get too excited. XD Anyways, glad you liked the analogy with the chracoals. I came up with it last minute while trying to think of a good way to end the chapter, and hoped it didn't change the mood or anything too much. _

**_ForeverNocturnal: _**_Yeah, 28 was probably about a fluff 10/10 for me, ie about as far as I'll go. XD 29... not so much. lol Glad you liked it. :) And I hope he pulls through too. XD (I know that sounds weird seeing as I'm the author and I'm in control of it but hey, I'm attached to this story :p)._

**_Meg: _**_Thank you! Hope you keep reading on. ;)_

**_Scar97: _**_Yes, yes, I know what you mean. XD lol And I get the 'hating and loving it' - on the writing side, you put in the cliffhangers so people are interested and then you just smile innocently thinking of what's going to happen, but as a reader I always think 'NOOOO WHY MUST YOU DO THIS?!1' lol But at least I'm trying to update. I hate it when people abandon stories right after leaving a cliffhanger. -.- Hehe, and I relate. Of course I'd be happy to help and perhaps beta-read your story. I was going to catch up on here during Spring Break, so I'll send you a PM and we can talk soon. :) And you speak German? Lucky. Duck. xD They removed German from our school, but if they hadn't, I would have taken that instead of Spanish. "Hasta les encuentro de nuevo" means "Until I find you all again". XD_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Well look, a surprise review from an anonymous reviewer who actually read the whole long enchilada! XD I've found a few good fics on this site where I spent hours reading them, so to know that someone actually spent half a day reading mine is immensely awesome, in my opinion. ;p Pretty much every writer's goal right there. Anyways, thank you so much for your review - and as for the last bit about what you want to see in here... well... *shhhhh* I've got a few tricks up my sleeve yet. ;)_

* * *

><p>"Kuki!"<p>

The gentle pattering of paws was heard across the soft ground, the young and tender—yet rapidly toughening—pads no longer being scorched by the full heat of the midday sun across the shifting desert sands. The afternoon was over, and evening was upon them. It was usually the time for the hunts, or at least when the adults were most active, chatting and conversing in the relative cool of a pleasant moonlit evening. However, the cubs were a different story, usually exhausting some of their boundless enthusiasm by the time the sun had likewise departed for the night.

Yet the call came again, echoing across the spacious dunes illuminated by a brilliant sunset.

"Kuki, brother, wait up!"

The cub came to the crest of the closest dune, smiling in anticipation when a young male slowed and then stopped, turning his head around and revealing a certain twinkle in his brilliant green eyes as the crimson peaks of color glinted off of them. He smiled, his warm body so tall and protecting as the cub shot towards him excitedly, still shouting energetically over the mounds full of sand grains.

Suddenly, however, the younger one tripped, still quite inexperienced with the transient and continuously moving nature of the ground underneath. Alas, that was the way the desert was—it moved, it had rhythm. It lived and breathed and acted in synchronicity with each of its inhabitants. The cub had not yet grown accustomed to the surroundings, though in time all the desert creatures and the pride itself grew with it and inevitably reached perfect harmony and balance with the entire landscape.

Falling head over heels, the two were equally surprised when the cub nearly crashed into the older sibling, the former quickly and resiliently standing back up with just as much enthusiasm as before… only with the added difficulty of spitting out the gritty bits of sand which had embedded themselves everywhere across the tanned young pride member.

The older one laughed.

"The sand moves, you know, sis. If you're going to be a princess, you'll have to learn how to be more graceful than that."

Unfazed, the little lioness nimbly bounced over to him, beaming a proud smile.

"Mommy said she'd teach me how to hunt while you were gone, and how to be a _great _princess. I bet I'll be so much better when you get back!"

"I'm sure you will, sis... but in the meantime, you look like a big, old rhinoceros trying to get down those dunes." He grinned at her, showing his good-humored intentions as well as his best imitation of a rhinoceros, complete with the grunting and cantankerous vocalizations associated with the lumbering giants. There was a reason why few of them ventured as far as the desert. It was tough to survive, and so those that lived there were well adapted to their hostile and often cruel surroundings.

There were more cruelties yet to be unleashed in the ruthless desert, more casualties and unfortunate happenings to be extolled there... but that was far away from them all. She was content to laugh giddily, eyes shining with adoration as, in an effort to prove her grace and speed, she quickly pounced on him and hugged him around the neck. A cool breeze poked its way through the expanses of the desiccated terrain, showering them with the usual dose of sand and a refreshing breath of chilly air. Her sandy pale pelt ruffled, her head pressed closely against the budding brown mane.

"Kuki, do you have to go?"

"Yes," he said simply, austerely... "I have to learn how to scout for food with the other lions. Otherwise we won't be able to eat anymore."

"Oh." She responded with a brief note of abjection, before her visage brightened with the glimmers of an ingenious idea.

"Can I go with you? Please?"

"_No_," he responded quickly, concern in his features as he tried to reassure her. "I'm sorry, but it's still too dangerous for you. I'm barely old enough to go... you remember what happened to Karibu when we came across those leopards, don't you? He nearly died."

She nodded, preferring not to remember the gruesome lacerations which would leave the mentioned male permanently disfigured. Such bloodshed was rarely witnessed by her eyes, but it did not mean the land was free of such needless violence.

"_Hey_, 'Kosa, what are you doing? King wants us out by sunset." Another voice spoke up from behind him, its speaker deeply silhouetted and almost invisible behind the shady dune. Already the atmosphere had darkened considerably, only the mass of jet black that was his outline and the glinting of his sharp eyes serving to distinguish the form of the new lion at all as he approached the two. He was absolutely silent in his approach, already experienced despite not being through with adolescence. The hints of a dark mane were barely suggested.

"_By sunset?_" He looked back out at the last peaks of gold tingeing the horizon, knowing he didn't have long. His face darkened with determination and a vague sense of worry, a need to learn to protect his family at home... yet this was, inevitably, the best thing he could do for them.

"_Ass tripe,_" he muttered inadvertently, before catching himself and shooting an apologetic glance at his nearby sister. As usual, however, her happy-go-lucky nature rendered her blissfully unaware of such distractions as she greeted the other lion, pleasantly content.

"Hi, Kuachwa. Did you know our mom is going to teach me to be a great princess?" She beamed again, not at all intimidated by the lion's burly muscles or rugged figure. His forceful and resolute countenance quickly softened as he saw her, his friend's sister and the future queen...

And he offered a friendly smile.

"Oh, really?" he feigned surprise. "Well, it shouldn't be _too_ hard for her, with such a great student and all. I bet you'll catch on quick, _Your Highness_."

The young cub smiled coyly.

"I was saying goodbye to my sister—I'll be over in a minute, Kuachwa. Just wait with the rest of the group and I'll meet you by the dune."

Just like that he was gone, having nodded assent and left only a small trail of sandy dust in his wake as he departed. That was it: that was all that was needed. The seconds ticked by, the desert analogous to a perpetual hourglass as the ubiquitous sand steadily sifted and trickled and wafted past the only home they'd ever known.

"... Kuki, when will you be back?"

The older lion took in a deep breath, and then sighed quietly. Slowly he turned around, towards where he would be leaving, and motioned with his head towards the vast expanse in front of him. Already the moon, so large and luminous, was poking above the horizon, its dark points and various craters visible in the perfect clarity and cool cloudlessness of the desert night. This evening it was full, completely round and bright and waxed, like a polished orb of shiny silver.

"Do you see that?" he whispered, his sister pressed against his side in the darkness.

She nodded and offered a noise in the affirmative: how could she not? It was the moon. So alone, so mysterious, so omnipresent. It was mystical, elusive. It was something they would never fully understand. What was it? Why was it there? What did it do? And why, most of all, did it shrink and disappear? Her curiosity fueled so many questions about the world around her, yet everything was covered by the shroud of enigma and was never truly answerable. The only certain thing was the warmth by her side, the fur pressed against her face... yet that too was about to disappear.

"The next full moon we have, I will return."

"Promise?" she breathed silently, struck in awe.

"Yes," he bent down to look at her, seriousness written in his eyes. "I promise you. I will be back before you know it."

Her lips twisted into the crook of a smile, reassured. This was it. This was the end. The last of the sun's light had vaguely vanished from the other side of the sky: it was time for him to leave. There were no words to say so, but there didn't have to be... it was simply the feel, the aura in the air. The day was over, and it was time for night to reign. Suddenly she leapt at the lion, blissfully unaware of everything in the world except for him, and took one last, precious moment to cuddle into his gentle, inviting embrace.

"I love you, Kukosa."

"I love you too," he licked her gently behind the ear, "now be good."

She frowned, knowing that he wouldn't be back for quite a while. By then the nomadic pride would have roamed some ways across the land to follow the herds, though they would still always remain in the Eastern Deserts. How would the scouts find them? How would they know how to get back? Sometimes she wondered, though she never arrived at the point of worrying. They would be fine—they'd always been fine before, so why should now be any different? They knew what they were doing. Everything would be alright.

Everything would be alright.

The young princess watched with a mixture of pride and sadness as her brother trotted towards the crest of the dune, the moon shining in front of him and illuminating his body in its mysterious way. It was just above the height of the sandhill, the full, celestial circle of light visible as the lion rose towards it with perfectly controlled grace. For a split moment he reached the very top of the sand and stood absolutely still, the cub watching in wonder as her brother stood inside the moon. He appeared to revel in its embrace, his fit figure perfectly silhouetted and shadowed by the luminescent disk for that one beautiful moment. And that was all. He leapt over the hill, seemingly disappearing into it and thusly vanishing from her view. He was gone.

Months went by.

She watched. She waited. Moons came and went, time passed and flew before she knew. All that time she thought back, back to the last time she had seen him... when he had disappeared into the moon. She kept up her hope, anticipating every time the orb was waxed to its full, but it didn't change the outcome.

For he never came out of its shining embrace.

* * *

><p>Mufasa looked at his brother again, all his thoughts trapped in the bleak whirlpool of his mind. He knew he should really leave soon, as he had better things to do than watch an unmoving heap of bloody flesh for hours on end. Menial, comforting little chores like border patrolling, hunting, organizing scouting parties, settling disputes, pretending that everything was just fine and going along well when really he knew that it certainly wasn't. Those things that he <em>should <em>have done, but were the absolute farthest from his normally resolute and dedicated mind in his current predicament. Those things which were, in actuality, still important, but honestly felt like they were worlds away.

Why, it sounded so irresponsible when he thought of it like that. Like he was shirking all the responsibilities he was supposed to do. He gritted his teeth together. Mufasa wanted to be a great king, but how... why...?

And then the growl came, a twinge of contempt and malice which was so out-of-character for the calm, placid lion. Why did this... why did _all of this_... have to happen in the first place? Was it something he'd done? Was he... not good enough all along?

"_I've displeased the ancestors_," he concluded solemnly, scratching at the bark with a single, outstretched claw. But why Simba? Why Scar? Why Sarabi? Why all the others? What had happened to them to deserve punishment for _his_ mistakes? Or were they all to blame all along?

_Except for Scar..._

The thought was slipped in silently, benignly. For no matter what he tried to do, that small little voice was always echoing in the back of his mind: _he deserves this_. _He deserves every bit of this_. And he did. He did deserve it. In fact, if anything, he deserved worse: he deserved to have his own life taken in the way he'd deigned to take his. In the way he had succeeded in taking Simba's. It was true he was alive for a reason, but then...

He looked at his brother, stretched out so helplessly before him. Maybe he could simply end it there. One claw would do the job, relieve him of his obvious misery. He would struggle for a few moments, then his body would grow cold and silent. It could all be over, it could end in one swipe of his massive paw.

No. That wouldn't solve anything. Besides, he couldn't do that... could he...? He bowed his head down in silence, hurt and confused. Alas, no matter what happened between his brother and him, there was always the old saying holding him back, ringing with its grain of truth as it always did. How did it go?

With both parents gone, no brother could ever spring to light again?

Ah, that was it. It was true. With his mother long gone and his father dead, he could never have another brother. This one was all he would ever have. For he knew, as horrible as it sounded, that he could always have another heir.

Well, actually, no, he couldn't—not with Sarabi gone too. But if _she_ could give his life for him and his brother, the two who had taken away so much from her...

He thought back to it, back to how much she'd been hurt. At the time he'd felt indignant and defensive, though now, looking at it through her eyes, he knew that she'd been more than justified in her anger towards him. He who had tried to ignore his pain and go on running the kingdom, a task which he could barely do anymore.

And as much as he hated to say it, sometimes he felt that, if he lost his younger brother, however guilty he may have been, it would have hurt him just as much as Simba's death.

Not that he would notice, in that event: both would still wear him away tremendously. There was simply no number, no quantitative value that could go along with that. No comparison. It might not even have been that the loss of his guilty brother would hurt him like his innocent son, but both of them together? It would only augment the pain, which even now was slow to fade away. Though time healed all wounds, it was still remarkably sluggish about it.

It was horrible. He hated having to choose between family members like this, dividing the pride and picking who to protect and who to abandon out in the cold. No one should have ever been forced to such a road... indeed, in his own divisive actions, Scar had inevitably forced him to rethink all that he had thought was so solid and concrete in his life. It had, quite literally, changed _everything_.

Then it was back to the quiet staring, seeing as how he had little left and nothing better to do. Scar lay there, unconscious and unable to make any effort to hide the emotions on his face as he usually did. It was like a murky pond that had just become clear, his expression so candid and... honest. It wasn't covered, not shrouded and kept away like he was chronically hiding something. Whatever was going on back in that mind of his was displayed with perfect clarity on his visage instead of being dammed behind that morose, cold expression he always wore. Every once in a while he would stir, yet instead of waking, a limb or two would shift and he would release a stifled moan, teeth gritted together tightly.

On the one hand, he could now see his unbridled expression of fear and pain, emotional sensations which had seeped through and permeated even his unconscious state. It provoked a twinge of sympathy in the older brother, a desire to comfort his sibling in his weakest moments... and yet, in the end, he only stood silently and did nothing, won over by the contrasting side. The unmoved part which told him that he did, in fact, deserve all he was going through. The uncharacteristically emotionless segment of his psyche which only watched and waited with perfect calmness and control.

There was nothing beyond that. He simply disconnected himself with everything and everyone around, ignoring his brother, the tree, the mandrill who occasionally passed by and later disappeared to find some spice somewhere...

_Thwump!_

Mufasa suddenly perked up, confused... had a bird run into one of the branches? He looked around quickly, seeing nothing and hearing nothing more. Was this some sort of trick? Were his senses becoming faulty as well as his state of mind? He moved forwards quickly to investigate, leaning at the edge of the tree, though he truly saw nothing out of the ordinary.

_What on ear—_

_ SMACK!_

The golden lion reeled back, having been suddenly hit by a flying projectile in the back of the head. He growled, claws out, ready to defend himself... yet when he looked at his paws, stifling the rumble in his throat, he could clearly see a small, jagged-edged rock resting there unassumingly.

The tall, yellowish-green savanna grass below him shifted noisily, and a huntress withdrew boldly. He had not noticed her before, for she had not wanted to make her presence known, though when he saw her, his face softened into a look of confusion.

"M-Maxi? Is it already time for you to—?"

"Yes, I know, you wouldn't think it, would you?" She began amiably, before taking a nice stretch and letting her joints pop, her body relaxing under the sun. "... But one month has gone by, believe it or not. Though from what I've heard, you've got bigger things to worry about than me, am I right?"

Suddenly Sarafina came out of the brush at her side, pale fur rippling over her shoulders as she gracefully walked to the lioness' side, Nala close by.

"Hey, sis. Been a while, huh?" She smiled, and then looked at Nala, who was shying behind her mother's leg in an unusual show of bashfulness. "Hey, little princess, what's wrong? Don't you wanna say 'hi' to your Aunt Maxi?"

The cub only frowned and looked at the ground, scratching some dry, parched ground. Sarafina nudged her to try to get her to speak, clearly worried, though her attempts were vain.

"... How much did they tell you?" Mufasa spoke up in a bleak, unusually quiet voice.

"Not much. I came to find you... which wasn't hard. I'd much rather look for the royal family than go scouring half the desert for an antelope." She rolled her eyes, "yet I will admit, I haven't seen your boisterous son _anywhere_. So that leads me to a question: why are you in this tree, why do you look so down, where's my Simba, and why the hell does Scar look like he was hit by a _truck?_"

"A... what?" The king looked confused.

"Nevermind. It's an expression down in the _Western Wastelands_," she closed her eyes and smiled, not without some hint of boldness and pride in her voice.

"_You went to the Western Wastelands?_" Nyota suddenly spoke up, having inexplicably appeared from her side. Her sudden amazement broke through her silent, vaguely troubled expression as she stood by them, two lionesses flanking her and breaking out of the thick carpet of grass which extended out from the tree in all directions. Now there were six of them, including Nala.

"You bet," she beamed, revelling in the brief note of awe that her fellow pride members gave her—a sentiment which starkly contrasted with the actual terse mood in the air. "There's also this thing over there called _roadkill_, which would also describe Scar up there... but that's a story for another day." Another charming smile appeared, and then it disappeared just as quickly, her expression quickly returning to a serious one as she turned back to face Mufasa.

"We've but one thing to ask of you, Mufasa. So on behalf of these lionesses... and my own self..." she sighed, several more lionesses standing beside her with morose, extremely disapproving countenances. It was true—despite her absence, she spoke for all of them. Yet there was no shyness, no timidity in her voice as she continued with what was on everyone's minds.

"Mufasa... we'd like an explanation."

* * *

><p><em>OH, and another thing I sort of mentioned... ever since last chapter, when I wrote Rafiki's dialogue, my spell check has been stuck in Kiswahili. And it won't go back to English, even though I've tried several times. -.- So, for this fic at least, my spell checker effectively does not work. There might be a few typos I didn't catch.<em>

_What said dialogue means (forgot to explain last time, sorry x.x): "Do not fear, for fear oppresses strength" (quote/paraphrase from Shakespeare's Richard II)._

_OC Names are as follows._

_Maxi - short for Maxine, I suppose. Yeah, it's not Swahili, or at least no moreso than Sarafina. You gonna sue me for breaking fandom law? XD_

_Karibu - close._

_Kuachwa - abandonment._

_Kukosa - lacking/missing._

_If anyone can guess whose flashback that was at the beginning, I will be pretty surprised. It's somewhat important, so if not, you'll find out later. ;) (I know I always say that, but come on, it's "suspense" for a reason. XD)_

_See you all next chapter, or at Thus Always (expect Chapter 5 soon - SPRING BREAK, HECK YES!)_

_Vayan con Dios y felicidad y etc!_

_Twin :)_


	31. One False Move

_**A/N: **_

_Hey, you know that awkward moment when the author you're following disappears for months and then doesn't publish for the longest time? Well, I don't very well, but I'm sure you're all acquainted with it now. Apologies. x) Two and a half months to wait is abysmal, even by my standards. All I can say is... don't expect to wait so long in the future. I've got the ball rolling again. :D_

_In any case, school's out and I was almost done so... I finished up. I think at first I was trying too hard to plan a dialogue scene between Mufasa and the lionesses, but decided it was too linear and boring and that I didn't like that. Not exciting or interesting enough. So I switched it up a bit... hope you don't mind. ;) A few new problems and themes (which will be of some importance later) are introduced. _

_So as you can see, the long-awaited and very belated Chapter 31 begins the second epoch of this story somewhat. Enjoy it!_

_Oh, and one last itty-bitty thing... e.e My spell-check for this part of the story (since I wrote Rafiki's dialogue 2 or 3 chapters back) is _**still**_ in Kiswahili, a language which Microsoft Office doesn't support and can't check and yada yada... my other stories are fine and the spaces both before that point and below the story (where I keep notes, words I want to use, plot points, etc.) are in English, but it's in another language here and I didn't bother to wrestle with it and try to change it back. SO, there may be some mistakes I didn't catch. I tried my best, but please be on the lookout and let me know if you find any which might be distracting to readers! That way I can fix them. :p_

_Reviews._

**_IronicSnap: _**_No, that's true, he does deserve... a lot. xD You'll see more this chapter. As for the flashback, you'll find out eventually since there will be more of them and it'll eventually be revealed. Just maybe not very soon. It plays a big part in the future so keep your eyes peeled for our mystery lioness princess. ;) And hooray for us *both* being on summer now. lol_

**_mom: _**_*15 now. lol And as I said to Snappy above me here (^ *points* ^), you'll find out who it is... eventually. Hopefully you'll figure it out before I tell you all, but... *shrug* we'll see. In the meantime, I will amuse myself as I always do by making you guys grope and guess around. Can't make it too easy, now. xp_

**_pokeking95: _**_Grrr, yes__. xD No worries, but... yes. School was irritating and by the time it wound down I barely even wanted to write. -.o That's a shocker, but *shrug* I got a mini-hiatus/planning session in before I started back up. Well, maybe not mini... certainly it was longer than planned. In any case, though, the lioness will come back. Glad you liked her... and no worries about looking like an idiot. In fact, I'd be concerned if a bunch of people guessed it correctly since that would mean I wasn't quite subtle enough. o.- Hmm, the way I see it (and I could be wrong), saying "I believe that" is expressing emotion (even if it doesn't necessarily express doubt, which it could) and it takes the subjunctive. But again, I could be wrong. lol_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Alright, first off, I loved your last chapter of AMM, and I'd probably laugh if a lion named Kukosa showed up. I wonder if any of your readers would get it (probably not, but you can always hope, right? XD). Nice guess to her identity, but... I'm not gonna say. :p You'll see if it is or not. I didn't reveal her name, though __I know just what you mean. I'm sure you all could figure out that a lion named "missing" probably... goes missing... (obvious statement is obvious XD). I guess it'd be a weird coincidence if you actually named your kid that and they went missing, but... you know... the author can do what they want and foreshadow. XD PS Now that you mention it, Maxi kind of does seem like what's-her-name (my brother loved that movie when we were younger, lol). I noticed you comparing your own OCs to characters and was happy at some of the ones you chose. Like I think you compared Thamani to Violet Parr... and she was always my favorite Incredibles character. x) PPS Yeah, the desert scene was a blast. *lives there secretly*_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Rafiki? That's a new one. XD lol But hey, you might be right, you might not. ;p You'll see a few new things this chapter, so... hope you enjoy it and review soon! :D_

**_Scar97: _**_First off, I'd like to apologize that my avi isn't as awesome as yours. Second off - it's fine, seriously. I'm not going to be one to criticize anyone about lateness right now. xD Thanks for the review and I hope your play went well. :) PS I WANT TO LEARN GERMAN! XD If you could instantaneously and effortlessly download all your knowledge and understanding of the language into my head right now, that'd be much appreciated. :) (I kid, I kid... sort of. XD)_

_Well, that's it... vámonos! :D_

* * *

><p>Zamani was walking back to the hyena cave.<p>

It was a darkened morning, with thick clouds hanging overhead—no doubt a remnant of the ferocious storm from the night before. Thick gales had swept throughout the land, and a downpour which was unequaled to anything she had seen in many moons. The wet season had come... late, but with an energy and anger which more than made up for it.

The old hyena was sopping wet. Instead of being warm and sheltered in the cave, she had gone out to look for Shenzi. No one had seen her, for she hadn't returned to the den since Askari had been given the order. Like a sprig of mist she had disappeared into the coal-black and water-logged expanse of the storm outside.

Asokai had given the old hyena the news: Askari was dead, crushed by a boulder or something thereabouts. Scar would die of his wounds before sunup. She wondered with an absent curiosity if Shenzi knew as well, if she'd found out yet... that might explain why she'd left. A childish fit of anger at not getting her way.

Zamani shook her head. It was foolish to have befriended him, that rogueish soldier with the unsettling grin. He was dangerous—she knew it. And as much as she wanted Shenzi to be the matriarch someday, it was clear that she was not yet prepared for such a task and shouldn't have been given it. In that way, she supposed she'd been foolish as well.

She growled, swinging her head absently as she stared at the muddy, moist earth which was tracking her softened steps. Every pace was a thick _squash_, with puddles of water flowing into her prints and filling them halfway with brackish sludge. She continued to walk like this for some ways, wishing Shenzi would return and hoping to find her back at the den which was creeping closer with every little motion...

Until she saw another set of tracks.

Her eyes narrowed; she was not in the mood to confront another individual, even a hyena. And judging by the small size and narrow shape of the tracks, in addition to the wide spaces between them which suggested long legs and stride lengths, she knew this was no short, squat hyena.

It was something worse... much, _much _worse.

The tracks continued—there was no hiding them in the wet ground and the lack of vegetation. She broke into a lopsided run immediately, her fading leg injury barely affecting her now, and followed the sparse, sporadic signs as they continued across the ground. Her teeth were openly bared, grimace approaching a growl as she neared the crest of a hill. Nearby or not, if this creature was what she thought it was she would find it and she would make sure it suffered for its dirty, sordid, despicable, _unspeakable_ crimes.

She paused at the top, looking down and seeing a creature—little more than a small dot due to distance—hunting a rabbit some ways down the slope. The elephant graveyard stretched to her west somewhere, and she inferred that this animal, this wild dog, had gotten lost chasing its wily prey across the twisting maze of bones and rubble that made up the swath of land there.

But it didn't matter. It had left its home—the verdant, lush, fertile plains of the Pridelands to the south. And for that, it would pay. Oh yes. It would pay dearly.

She flew towards her enemy like a bullet, eyes narrowing as she focused and honed in on her target. When the time was right she leapt, the dog barely emitting a yelp before its cry was stifled and she on top of her prey. It didn't struggle, instead pressing its paws against its chest and gaping at her with confused, helpless eyes as the rabbit it had chased bounded away into the mist.

Zamani stood up, paws still planted on her foe as she took a brief look. It was a male, and a healthy-looking one at that. His tongue lolled out slightly even as his eyes bugged in fear and her claws dug into his glossy pelt, which was becoming coated in mud as he lay there. Instead of sharing the emaciated build that many of the hyenas had donned, the panting canine was well-fed and young—certainly too young to know why she had taken vengeance upon him. But alas, even if he didn't know, hopefully his death would send a message to those who did: the hyenas did not forget, and they did _not _forgive.

She couldn't help but chuckle—she was a hyena, after all.

"I betcha wonderin' why the big, bad ol' hyena leader's out here to get ya, right? Betcha thought we wouldn't notice your little _intrusion_?"

Her calm, almost friendly tone belied her deeper, sinister anger. The dog partially noticed, looking about with a confused expression.

"I'm sorry," the creature pled, "I didn't know, I just saw the rabbi—"

"Still ya tongue before I _rip it out!_" she burst suddenly, her claws smacking him squarely in the face as he let out a sorry yelp. Her teeth ground ominously together as her sniveling prey curled up and whimpered a sad note, terrified of another blow.

"I di'n't ask ya to speak..." she continued. "Your actions've spoken louder than ya words as it is."

The poor animal didn't dare to talk again, although his frightened hodge-podge of a brain interpreted no inkling of what she meant anyways. All he could do was whine and paw at the ground and struggle mildly, for he was too young and inexperienced to know any better. She looked at him, disgust in her eyes. Zamani liked roughing him up some, but alas, she still had a niece to find. May as well be quick.

"I see ya type's still quite cowardly. But no matter... if ya happen to see your good old leader, Ulaghai, down where you're goin', make sure he knows that your species's gonna suffer and die fer whatcha did'a us," she slurred. "We still remember."

His eyes briefly widened, but he barely had enough time to yelp before her teeth tore savagely into his throat, the incisors mercilessly severing the skin and flesh and several major arteries in one ruthlessly efficient move. The pitiful creature wriggled and squirmed in her grasp, like a worm dying under the heat of the hot sun above them, but all that she could feel was the blood in her mouth, the taste of the life leaving its owner and flowing into her own self.

"Auntie?"

She jerked, and then awkwardly released the dog. It was still twitching and whimpering, its paws batting at her reflexively, but it was already dying, for the light in its eyes was dimming quickly.

"... _Shenzi_..." she smiled innocently, muzzle bloodied.

"... Was I... interruptin' something?" Shenzi cocked an eyebrow, looking suspicious and, to the older hyena's surprise, concerned. "What's with the mutt?"

She shrugged coolly. "It attacked me."

That was a dubious statement at best, and she more than expected a hostile rebuke from her niece which, after a long while spent looking for her, Zamani didn't really want to hear. But to her amusement, she only had a pitying expression.

"You find this funny, dearie? I'd have ya know that the little thing's more dangerous than ya make 'im out ta be."

"Sure, Auntie Zamani. I'm sure he was gonna _bite'cha_ to death with those tiny li'l' fangs." She narrowed her eyes, knowing something more was going on.

"I've been looking for ya for hours." She abruptly changed the subject. "Where've ya been?"

Shenzi stood silent, standoffish, stubborn.

"Oh, I see how it is," she trudged over towards the young hyena, spitting blood on the ground. "You di'n't getch ya way, so you're jus' gonna tromp off to the wilderness without tellin' nobody, is that it?"

Shenzi still said nothing, although their muzzles were inches apart. Zamani huffed, licking some of the blood of her muzzle in a short, irritated move.

"You'll speak when you're spoken to, niecey..."

"Except when there's nothin' left ta say," she snapped back angrily, eyes glinting. A short silence followed, and she cleared her throat. "... Go away, Zamani. I don't wanna talk."

"_Why not_?" she spoke up and attempted to follow the retreating, somewhat resigned figure of her niece. She took a deep breath, her temper dissipating slightly.

"Why not?" she repeated, her tone softer. "The whole pack's been lookin' for ya all day and we had no idea where ya were. You gotta come back and lead—"

"But I don't wanna, now! An' what's ta say you'll even let me? I shoulda known all along but I see it now—you've jus' been controllin' me the whole time!"

Zamani drew back slightly, hurt and offended. She never wanted to do Shenzi harm, nor revoke her birthright... she just wanted to help her. It's what the young hyena's mother would have wanted. Her sister.

"Shenzi, now you _know _I never meant ta—"

"No, I don't. You hurt me on purpose an' ya killed Askari. Ya may as well've jus' went and killed 'im, ya didn't give 'im no chance."

Zamani's eyes narrowed, the scrutiny in her scowl tangible. "... That's all ya have ta say for yourself?"

Shenzi nodded once, her features terse. "I loved Askari."

She spoke glibly, as though they were the most natural words in the world, yet they sounded odd coming off of her tongue. For a moment she pondered it, before realizing, with some measurable sense of dismay, that she had never before spoken those words aloud. The soldier hyena had likely gone to his bloody grave not knowing if she returned the feelings he'd subtly demonstrated more than once.

That alone was cause to mourn.

The young hyena turned away, suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to be alone. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to face the hyena responsible for _his _death. She just wanted to leave, lest she accidently do something worse out of brash anger like Zamani had, at least presumably, done with the limpid canine victim lying dead at her feet.

Yet she had only retreated a few paces before her aunt's vociferous voice came, hot and sharp like freshly-forged iron.

"_Shenzi Marie Predattora Vendetta Jacquelina Hyena!_"

The young hyena tilted her head slightly and made vague eye contact, stopping and yet saying nothing.

"_If you take one more step ova' that hill_, then beware, for you'll no longer be a part'a our pack and I'll hafta drive ya away..." she continued to address her reticent family member, a note of sadness suddenly finding her, "...and I don't wanna do that."

There was a long, terse moment between them, the air suddenly becoming a thousand times thicker. Alas, what Zamani said was absolutely sincere—she didn't want to have to drive her hapless young niece away—but it was a necessary and required precaution taken against those pack members which were exiled.

She gritted her teeth to herself, knowing she had said the words more out of desperation to get her to come home than an actual intention to banish her, for that was something she did not want to happen, either. Yet surely, she told herself, Shenzi was not that desperate, not that driven to her own ruination. She wouldn't take another step over that hill, so it was irrelevant. Everything would be alright, and she would necessarily win this battle of wills—after all, she had her own demons to battle and she didn't need the relationship between her and her niece to become strained.

Surely it was the right move.

Besides, there was no way Shenzi could have truly loved Askari. She was young, and foolish. She obviously wasn't ready for love or life or leadership if she _seriously _thought that a hyena of his order would give her any sort of love or vows of commitment. They were far too wild, too untrustworthy for that sort of emotion to be safely fostered and nurtured.

Again, it was a necessary precaution that he be eliminated.

And so she waited for her response.

"Shenzi...?"

She wanted to grin, sure she had her niece under control and the situation in the bag. But alas, that grin, had it existed, would have been wiped away in the next moment. The moment where she would look back and curse herself a thousand times over... the moment when Shenzi shook her head, sadness and regret still shining in her eyes despite everything, and retreated up the hill to a vast, lonely world outside. She had nothing left.

And she would wander the rest of her life.

* * *

><p><em>If there be spirits in this world... then... they must frown upon me.<em>

There were lights everywhere. Bright lights, dim lights, lights which made absolutely no sense and had no context to them. Whether it was some yet-unknown sort of surreal vision or just a handful of sunbeams amplified and distorted around his weak vision, he didn't know nor care. Yet necessarily, and rather logically, it was bright, for the first time in a long while.

Shouts, too. Distant, vague, with no clarity to them and utterly indistinguishable. They'd grown briefly, then died down, then caused the atmosphere to bulge with sound once again. It was irritating, rather like fiery pain was at first, though he'd grown used to both with time. Then suddenly, without any warning, the noise had stopped, its sources apparently leaving elsewhere.

He didn't know if this was reality or not. He assumed, blearily, that it was. Most of before had been spent in some dreamless, unconscious torpor, with some moments of half-consciousness mixed in as though merely for variety.

This was the highest state of awareness he'd achieved as of yet. In his wisp of a mind, which contained barely even a trace of its normal functioning capacity, that was some sort of sick achievement.

He lay there for a long time, before finally realizing that his eyelids were ajar just slightly and that it was in fact broad daylight out. It was hot, too, apparently, for distantly—as though his physical body were another world altogether—he could sense that there was sweat glistening on his pelt.

A bird began to sing, as though happy at being scorched alive, but the sound was muffled. It was as though his ears had been stuffed with... something dense... and... he couldn't think of a word for it.

Not that that was important at the moment.

"_Please..."_

He'd grimaced inwardly, stifling a weak moan. Was he imagining voices, too? What next? This couldn't be happening to him. He rolled slightly—or at least as far as he could—and tried to dampen the noise, and his leg shifted in time with another beat of the constant, throbbing rhythm of incoherent thoughts.

"_I promise I'll leave."_

He couldn't drown it out, yet a part of him didn't want to after all. Why was that voice so familiar? Where had he heard it before? Why... couldn't he shake it?

"_Please, this is all I want._"

No. No. This couldn't be. It wasn't her, it was someone else, it wasn't—

"_And you know I cannot! You remember our agreement. I showed you mercy... now leave before I decide I can't show you any more."_

His brother's voice shook him out of any thoughts that he was experiencing a dream. His musings were real indeed, he was in the material world, and he couldn't wait any longer. In a moment it all came back to him, his memories, his old thoughts, his dreams, and suddenly it occurred to him that he was lucky to even be alive.

He was indebted to him, for he owed Mufasa his life. That was something he admitted, albeit begrudgingly. This was no situation he wanted to be in.

Moments passed thus in thought and indecision, before he finally took the first step and opened his eyes all the way, a burst of sunlight causing him to squint them almost shut again immediately. This time he could not prevent a moan of pain as his body—until then seemingly disconnected from his being—sharply reminded him of its broken, wounded presence there. He cried out softly, before quickly biting his tongue and letting his teeth grit together in an attempt to regain control.

Mufasa heard him.

"My spirits, you're alive..."

"... Unfortunately."

Mufasa ignored him, having arrived at his side in barely a moment's time. He stood there dutifully and looked him over, probing him with his eyes. Scar turned away slightly, feeling oddly uncomfortable under his close, studious gaze. There was a sharp glint visible in Mufasa's eyes as he met them, before the older lion lifted his head back up and cleared his throat, assiduously assuming his regal air despite everything.

"You're very lucky, after all that. You went into shock, we didn't think—"

"_I know_. I remember." He retorted brusquely, his tone inadvertently nasty and speaking more from wounded-animal pain than from reason.

"You're welcome," Mufasa spoke plainly, though his face was oddly dark.

"I never said thank you. It would have been easier on both of us if you left me in that ca—"

"No," it was Mufasa's turn to interrupt. "I couldn't do that... you know that." Scar looked him harshly, almost bitterly in the eye, and suddenly realized what all this was about.

"You saved my life," the golden lion stated, reaching the heart of the matter. "I want to know why."

Something about this provoked Scar as being funny, and he chuckled in spite of himself, showing in his grin a nice array of sharp, bloodied teeth. Nothing about the mood in the air was actually very light or amusing, but something about how seriously his brother suddenly sought this information after everything... the fact that he couldn't let it go... oh, that was simply comedic.

"You find this funny?" Mufasa growled slightly, defensive.

"Oh, no. No. I just find _you_ impetuo... impe..." he squinted and his weak laughter died, his mind drawing a blank as it often had lately, "impish. Honestly, brother, be patient. All things reveal themselves with time."

It was stupid, obviously, but it was a better response than straight up telling him that the sole reason he had saved him was because he knew that, otherwise, the hyena would have picked them off one by one. His thoughts had been surprisingly selfish in that moment and it was apparent in some way that he could only hope to linger around by procuring his brother's continued assistance, and that would only happen through convincing him of the apparent altruism of his actions.

He still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd chosen wrong, despite the fact that there really hadn't been anything better... he felt he'd goofed up. Vaguely, somehow, all this had come to him... even if not in a lucid manner, it was clear that he should keep silent. Mufasa was angry about something.

"This is _serious! _I need to know why you risked your life for me... so tell me, what was it? You had no reason to save me..."

"... As you had no reason to save me."

"_Scar_," he sighed, though his teeth were noticeably bared. "I want to know."

"Well, sorry to _rain _on your ceremony, but we all want a lot of... things. I want this tree to grow meat on it," he replied sullenly. "Obviously, that's doubtful."

Mufasa padded over to him, his golden, pillar-like legs pressing on the bark next to him and allowing his tall presence to loom, threatening, over the younger sibling.

"Don't get _smart _with me. You caused all this to happen to yourself. That damned hyena would have killed the both of us without batting an eye!" he began to pace, lathering himself slowly but surely into a steady rage. "Always had to be the smart-ass, didn't you? You just have to toy with me like this. What in spirits' name is wrong with you?"

"Temper, temper," he drawled in a low voice, barely audible due to weakness. "What bramble crawled up your behind?"

"_You know very well... _what..." he caught his reflexive reply momentarily, awkwardly pausing and clearing his throat, "or were you unconscious through that too?"

"Since I've been barely even aware of what _planet_ I've lived on over the past twenty-four hours, I'd assume so, to my regrets. Sure it was diverting."

Mufasa grimaced. If that hadn't been true, and if his younger brother wasn't lying slumped on what still could have been his deathbed, his caustic tone would get under his skin. He knew, however, that his responses were more from pain and weakness and its resulting irritation than mere malice. Alas, Scar hadn't meant to be so short with him, but habit rendered his voice biting.

"I can only hope, for your sake, that you still show some fondness toward me, your older sibling. However, I'm not sure if you do..." he glanced at his brother, the metaphorical box full of mysteries, and was surprised with how frank he was suddenly being. Scar showed no expression and made no gesture of resistance, so he continued. "... but I can hope, and give you the benefit of the doubt for now. After all, a good deed done is a favor earned, and... you're all..."

Mufasa swallowed nervously. He'd been about to say 'you're all I have left', but had hesitated, as he was unsure as to how that would come off and was not sure how his brother would react.

Scar perked up.

"I'm all what?" He noted Mufasa's unwillingness to continue by the sudden shrinking his form seemed to take. The golden lion had taken a step back. "... Marvelous? Handsome? Come, pick one, I know that's what you were thinking."

It was more in jest than anything else. He was sure he looked horrid after the disfiguring injuries he'd suffered through. Mufasa's brow furrowed, as if in thought, though he was unresponsive, neither offended nor amused by his rare, half-sincere glint of humor.

"No... nothing..." he replied absently. "All I can say is that what you did is the only reason you are still alive."

There was a tense silence in the air, the older sibling's chiseled face fixing him as sternly as a statue of stalactites. He was being deadly serious, though in truth, the both of them had known it all along. Scar swallowed silently, allowing himself a breath as he slowly processed this fact, regardless.

"The lionesses were here?"

Mufasa nodded, his ominous message a relief to the younger lion despite himself. Perhaps his mental faculties weren't all out of reach after all.

"And what..." he closed his eyes suddenly, dizzy with the effort of speaking and thinking as well as the heat, "... what did they... what were they—?"

"They wanted to kill you." His reply was short, terse.

"Ah. Well, that's nothing new... _would have saved me a lot of trouble_..."

He appeared to shrug it off, though his levity disguised his sudden distress. The subtle and perhaps righteous apprehension that was vaguely directed towards his estranged pride mates. A fear of being helplessly jerked awake in the midst of malicious, suffocating shadows, several sneaky females standing over him guiltily as they silently cut his throat.

"I did what I could—they won't harm you while I'm here. I told them of our talk, I told them that you felt guilty and jumped in to save me..." he took a breath, stressed, "and it convinced them, for now. I've tried my best, but if they press for punishment... well, I'm obligated to give it to them. You know how much father vied for the will of the people. That's why our monarchy works the way it does."

Scar would have shifted his head and looked up at him if it weren't for the fact that every small movement shocked him with a conflagration of pain. He merely closed his eyes, letting the weight of his words sink in. Yes, he remembered his father's laws... very much so. The lionesses were expecting a remorseful character, someone who would simply fade back into the shadows and take things the way they were. Even if their disgust and hatred for him was scarcely bridled, they would let him live and perhaps let him be an ostracized limb of the pride if he kept silent and behaved well. He didn't feel quite like that, but of course, if he didn't play pretend, then the lionesses were going to have a party of vengeance. The sort of party where the streamers were entrails and the punch bowl was replaced with... well, with blood.

He tread a fine line—that much was tacit. But the bad news _just kept coming_. Scar tried to tune it out, having had enough for now, but Mufasa continued on, mistaking his quiescence for exhaustion instead of a genuine desire to ignore him.

"... Rafiki didn't think you'd live," Mufasa began. "It'll be a long time—weeks, perhaps months—before you can recover. And you will bear these scars for the rest of your life, even though we did our best..."

_You will bear these scars for the rest of your life._

Those were the only words he really caught in Mufasa's subsequent one-sided discussion.

Scar shuddered. It sounded eerily like the same words the shaman had said to him all those years ago, back on the day of the... 'accident', if it could even, in a way, be called that. Although he supposed it was his accident for being caught and attacked, the one who had doled him his mark had been overcome by twisted intentions.

_These scars will never leave you... you'll be marked forever... _

Things were never the same after that. And what of now? Was this auguring another permanent change? He could only hope not. If this one was as bad as the first, he could never hope for a normal life, a normal relationship, a normal and quiet death...

Never again.

"... and that's all he said about your leg. We'll have to wait." Mufasa finished and cleared his throat, unaware that the younger brother had heard almost nothing. He needn't have had to—the message behind the words was clear enough. Scar would be in his brother's custody and care for a long while. He would be a dependent mess, with no one to look to but Mufasa and... and... wait...

"M-Mufasa? Who was that lioness?" His brow furrowed as he changed the subject. "What did she wan—?"

"No one. It was no one," Mufasa suddenly appeared irritated, his features morose as he realized that that was likely all Scar had been thinking about. His report had gone unheeded. "Don't ask again."

He was practically daring Scar to defy him, but it was a challenge Scar would not—could not—take today. For now, he could only ponder curiously after her familiar identity...

"Scar, listen to me. I want to tell you something about all of this."

"Mmmmm?" Scar grunted flatly, a signal he was listening. Whether or not he actually was, he himself was not sure, but it invited Mufasa to speak regardless.

"The lionesses are right, in a way. There are many crimes that you have yet to answer for. I've shown you all my mercy..." his face was hard, "but in the end, it is not me you will be answering to. Nor the lionesses. Even if you fool me—even if you fool us all... if your intentions are not good then you shall suffer. The spirits shall reward your good deeds and punish your evil ones."

Normally Scar would have scoffed, yet for all that he didn't believe in these ethereal beings the other lions always referred to, the thought of punishment and accountability towards his actions was enough to frighten him in his current, precarious situation.

"I don't want you to think of this as an empty threat from me... this is a _promise_, and no matter what I do on your behalf, you are responsible for your own actions."

Mufasa sighed, as though a great weight had been lifted from his back and he had been liberated. Scar, however, felt anything but liberated. As long as he was this close to death, anything that looming and ominous was bound to terrify him... no matter how rooted in superstition it seemed to him.

He could only hope Mufasa was wrong, for suddenly he was assailed once again by fresh guilt over the things he'd done. Surely, it was too late to clear his conscience and assume a clean slate.

If this was true, then there was no hope for him in all the world.

But alas, there was no need to despair, he supposed. It was probably just another falsehood from the great store of lies Mufasa had been taught by their parents. The most laughable part was that he believed in it. Punishment? Justice after death? How would that come about? He'd never been able to wrap his head around it, and indeed, the other lions themselves didn't seem to understand their own theory when pressed. Not that it mattered much. At the end of the day he would just brush it off—it was a story and nothing more, meant to scare little cubs into behaving.

He, however, was not a little cub. He wasn't Mufasa's slab of clay, to be freely shaped and imprinted upon, anymore. Scar could and would think for himself. And in the end, life was all he had and any way to cling to it a little longer was beneficial. Only when he'd been in pain and pushed to the limits had he wanted to die, he realized.

Perhaps, though, he still wanted very much to live. He studied Mufasa, his gaze scrutinizing.

"What would they have tried me for? The lionesses?"

Mufasa's gaze suddenly turned cold, his face and voice completely flat and devoid of emotion as he recounted his crimes, uncovered old injuries and wounds which he simply wanted to forget.

"... They said you were guilty of high treason against the king, attempted regicide, murder, willful sedition, fraternizing with the enemy, breaking terms of exile, kidnapping, seduction, thievery, destruction of property, lèse majesté... _and poaching_."

"I'm not guilty of _half _those..." he rebutted, face pinched and a twinge of anger appearing, "... and haven't I _suffered _enough because of your father's _damned _hunting laws? Poaching..." his weakened body attempted to spit on the ground, left eye throbbing as it reminded him of his gaping scar there. It had never healed over with time. "Ridiculous."

"Well," Mufasa spoke softly, his patience gone and his visage offended, "you can tell that to whoever's judging you. Now if you don't mind, I have to leave..."

"Wait, Mu—"

"Goodbye, Scar," he spoke flatly. "Unlike you, I have duties I have to see finished."

The golden lion leapt out of the tree, landing on his feet gracefully. He'd decided that he'd been on his unplanned hiatus for long enough. It was time to begin running the kingdom and taking his duties seriously. After all, it wasn't like anything new was bound to change anytime soon... he had to be prepared. His golden body blended into the grass, sunny coat disappearing as he continued on his way, leaving Scar to pore over his words with whatever thoughts he had left.

He would be thinking for a long time.

* * *

><p><em>Good news! Trampled has finally reached 100,000 words (excluding author's notes, of course XD)! Another milestone...<em>

_So, anyways, what do you all think? What was Zamani upset about? Has she gone all psycho rogue or is it something else? What'll happen to Shenzi? Who was the lioness talking to Mufasa? How did Scar get his scar, and what'll happen to him? _

_Leave a review!_

_School's finally out, as I said, so another update should come soon. I want you to know that all of your reviews make me happy, so a comment would be much appreciated and would help me deal with those weird post-school emotions (mostly happiness, this year, but looking back on it still irritates me -.- Hopefully I'll forget it soon enough.) _

_Vayan con Dios and let's have a wonderful, suspenseful summer!_

_- Twin :)_


	32. Mexican Stand-off

_**A/N:**_

_Hey, everyone! It's been less than a month, so I guess I've updated in pretty good time. I'm in Nevada now, and the warm weather and other stimuli of summer vacation is helping my muse, rather like a maggot feeding on dead meat or mold growing in a warm, dark environment._

_Weird imagery aside, I'm hoping to get some writing done now. Hope you'll like this chapter, as always. Reviews._

**_IronicSnap:_**_ First as always. xP And yes, I get it. Everyone's so upset because the dog died and he didn't deserve it. Well, tough. Sometimes that happens. You can mourn, but he's not coming back. XD And glad you liked my (morbid) joke. The funny thing is that just a few days afterward, the word of the day for dictionary .com was lese majeste. Glad to have taught you a new word again! :D_

**_mom: _**_Well, that's, like, so duh. I do that_ alllll _the time. _I_ mean I go, like, every weekend with mah gurls and we go to, you know, Africa to pwn the wild dogs there with our teeths!1! it's, like, SOOOOO... omgamazing! _

_I kid, of course... I've never even seen a wild dog. xP lol_

**_pokeking95: _**_Dubai? That sounds great, haha... I'm still in the States, but I'm having fun and, yes, relaxing after the school year. xD No summer classes this time, though I do have summer homework. -.- But hey, it's July, so who cares? The hyena/wild dog thing will have more context and importance later, so just hang on. :p There's more interesting stuff to come. Yo espero que tenga un buen verano. :)_

**_DarthRushy: _**_I don't think I did until someone pointed it out. xp But the fact is that Ed is relatively boring as he is portrayed in the movie and I've seen him just like that - stupid - in so many fics... I had to make it different. Thanks for your review. :)_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Can't say I'm surprised. I myself have a few fics I haven't updated in about a year or more because I wasn't that interested. xp There's so many fics on here where the author says "NEW CHAPTER!" or "updates every week" or whatever, and it hasn't been updated since 2009 or something like that. Yeah, the "dog thing" (lol) didn't really deserve to die... but hyenas hate wild dogs. You'll see why. And yes, they did design it that way. I don't subscribe to the whole buffalo thing, it's kind of stupid. xD_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Thanks for reading! Hope you get to this soon... I saw your profile and how your computer's having issues. :/ That sucks. In any case, though, I suppose it would feel like that. Like a real-time coma almost. xp Don't know if I really have a secret in that regard, but as I've said via PM to you, I really relate to Scar on a personal level, so it's not that hard for me to come up with dialogue and such for him. You'll see the lioness soon. This chapter's a bit more Mufasa-centric, so I hope that doesn't disappoint. xD_

_**danny: **I'm not sure what you meant there, exactly, but you said you loved it, so... thank you. XD_

**_Scar97: _**_Great! That sounds like fun! Don't sweat the late reviews... it's alright. :) The two brothers have a lot more to go through, but it's not like Scar can really go anywhere so they're kind of stuck with each other. xD lol I love how you say "stupid Zamani just HAD to kill him off"... although I have to say I agree. I'll give you a handkerchief so you can wipe off your Shenzi tears._

_PS That's alright, it'd be boring if two people had the same avatar. xp I'll probably just make myself a new one. And I'm assuming that, even though I don't know German, "Nummer" is "number" and "Siebenundzwanzig" means "twenty-seven"... probably, since I know "und" is "and", "Sieben" is "seven" and "Zwanzig" is "twenty": hence, "seven-and-twenty"._

_Just an educated guess, there... am I right or am I totally off? xp *wants to learn German in college*_

_Oh, and speaking of languages, I gave some characters in this chapter Aussie/English-ish accents. So if you're from England or Australia or somewhere and this is totally inaccurate, don't burn me at the stake. xp_

_My shift key is recovering and my spell-check is on hiatus: be on the lookout for errors so that I can fix them._

* * *

><p>"A'ight, Hafi, d'ya remember the plan?"<p>

A pair of wild dogs tread the fine northern border of the Pridelands, where the sun was hanging low and orange in the pale pink sky.

"Yeah, mate. Jus' play along—that's jus' what you said, aye?"

A sneer came from the first. "Aye, yeah, I did, I did. 'Haps ya're smarta' than the bloke they make ya out to be, now, eh?" His eyes were vaguely deceitful.

"Aye. 'Hafifu' the Smart, that's an awful good one, there." His companion smiled giddily with that thought. "That'll be what they call me."

"Eh, well I'll be dried and dead a'fore that happens. Unless your numb noggin thinks that blabbin' off your trap to every passin' chap is smart, you blighter."

"Blimey, Shahidi, lay off'a me." He averted his eyes, somewhat taken aback. "I said I's sorry for that one. He looked like a mighty good fellow, I didn't think he'd go and do that. Honest, mate. I really di'n't think."

"Ah, what else is new? Now would ya shut your yap? I swear you run your bloody mouth off more'n my mum."

The soft padding of footsteps came from somewhere nearby. The two dogs hushed in unison, the older and more experienced of them gesturing for his companion to stay silent and follow his lead. Without a sound, and as calmly as they could, both of them walked out from behind the scrappy brush they'd been hiding behind and approached their target.

Mufasa was treading forward wordlessly, his head down and his visage staring at his pawprints as though deep in thought. His ruddy chestnut locks of mane hung in front of his head and occasionally reflected the luminous sunbeams. He didn't appear to notice the two canines off ahead and to his left.

Shahidi spoke first.

"_G'day_, mate! Awful fine day for a walk, i'n't it?"

"Hmm?" Mufasa raised his head as they questioned him, distracted. "Oh... yes, it is."

He continued walking at his sluggish pace. The lion was in actuality patrolling the borders—or at least attempting to as well as he could—though it appeared that he was walking in no particular direction for no particular reason.

"Hey, 'ey, 'ey!" The dog barked suddenly, as though surprised. "Why, you're the king 'ere around these parts, aye?"

"Eh, yeah, he is the king! He's the king, Shahidi!" Hafifu looked excited, his gaze trailing towards Mufasa and unnerving him slightly. "Oi, Your Majesty, if you could give us but one precious second to plead our case, we'd be the most gratefulest subjects you ever did see."

He bowed grandiosely, attempting to plant several kisses on Mufasa's paws—a gesture the golden lion respectfully avoided with a nice, generous step backward.

"What?" he asked, alienated. This was no time for such silly things.

"_I said shut your trap_," Shahidi spat at his younger companion, doling out a brisk slap across the face. Hafifu let out a sorry yelp. "Aye, don't you mind 'im, Your Majesty. E's a good fellow, but, eh... he 'as dropped on his head as a tyke, you see?"

Mufasa cocked his eyebrow, as though seeing them for the first time. These were wild dogs, a species which he saw rarely.. and he was lucky for that. They were not a breed known for their kindly good nature or flowery attitude. The few he had known had not had an honest bone in their body, as was common amongst their ilk.

Yet the canines, however much they were aware of this, never seemed to be fazed.

"Yeah," the smaller dog laughed stupidly, "heh-heh, sure was, mate. 'Twas a sore wound 'at left me in a bit of a kip for about two 'ole days. I's just a mite at the time."

The older dog nodded his head enthusiastically in affirmation, letting out a hoarse wheeze.

"Aye, well, if he knew 'is onions before, he'd lost bloody all of 'em by the time 'e was awake again, you hear me, chap?"

The two had a good laugh at that, though for some odd reason Mufasa had a feeling it was at his expense. For alas, as if their sudden and as-yet unexplained appearance wasn't enough, they had the strangest and most unintelligible of accents.

He had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.

"What is this?" He asked curtly. "If you're in need, then please keep this brief. I have a lot on my mind..." he paused and then added, with visible hesitation: "mate."

"Eh, you hear 'at, Hafi? King says he's got a lot on 'is mind." He turned to Mufasa. "You got a lot on your mind. A' course... seems like you're a good old fellow, now, so me an' my chap here'll just tell you the gist of it, aye?"

"Aye, and we'll tell you, and then we'll tell the missus about how we made you sorry for 'a—AAIIIP!" Hafifu recoiled suddenly from the weight of another blow, letting his compatriot take over as he rubbed his cheek mildly with his paw.

"_Some tripe, _you bloody fool... sorry, old chap. Like I said, 'e 'as just a boy when it happened, I don't reckon he knows a blasted thing."

"I's a mite, mate." He whimpered pitifully. "Just a mite."

Mufasa groaned visibly, a rare break showing through his composed air. It had been a long time, he realized, since he'd given audience to another animal. In fact, it'd been a long time since he'd even spoken with the common folk around the kingdom. Only Zazu and his pride of lions had remained in contact with him. As such he relented.

"Alright. You have thirty seconds."

"A'ight, a'ight. You give me thirty seconds, old bloke, and I'll make it worth your time, what do ya say, eh?"

"I say twenty-five." His face was humorless.

"Crickey, I see you're one of those old kippers. Twenty-five seconds, well... I'll right tell you of our little predicament 'ere. You see now, there's this fellow, a jolly old friend of mine. Goes by 'e name of Dogo."

"And 'e's a genuine wild dog, mate! Best one you ever did see, now, that's who 'e was."

"Yeah, 'e was a dandy old fellow. The dog's bollocks, as they say. We say 'was' though, 'cause 'round these parts we 'aven't seen 'im in a good while. We went up north a ways, into the hyenas' land, you hear me, chap? Well, we found 'im dead 'bout an hour ago."

"Now, the body wa'n't even stiff and cold yet," Hafifu shook his head sadly. "We reckon one 'a them brutes just came in an' killed the poor fellow."

"Was a real shame, that one. We figured you could lend us a hand and help us out 'a this bloodbath."

"What do you want me to do?" Mufasa queried coldly.

"Oi, well you're the king! Maybe you could ruffle their feathers a bit."

"There's not much I can do for your friend." He sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, the hyenas are under exile and are not under my rule. As they have not crossed into my kingdom and broken their terms, it is on their paws. What they do on their land is their choice, and their choice alone." He turned to walk away, though his two new tag-alongs did not seem to find this acceptable.

"Aye, but I thought you 'ere a good old chap! Thought you'd get down and right help us out some. You've given us bloody naught in the way of that, mate."

Mufasa shooed them off with his paw, brushing off their apparently crude natures and their obvious attempts to garner his guilt.

"Yeah, aren't you supposed to be like 'the best king that ever was'? You're acting more rustled up 'n a mongoose in a monsoon."

"I have no power over them, and I cannot go risking my pride to ensure their fealty. My advice would be to stay off their lands—if they cross over the border, then they are subject to my punishment."

Hafifu stopped in his tracks, sitting on his haunches and pitifully wagging his tail against the ground. He whimpered, his grovelling self displaying a sadness which seemed almost genuine. Mufasa considered the both of them for a moment, before growling loudly and turning away for the last time.

The younger dog promptly got up, and before Mufasa had taken a few steps, he noticed that Shahidi had somehow overtaken him silently. They stood facing each other, the canine's visage angry and bearing a snarl.

"Aye, old chap... if you aren't going to help us," his voice was menacing, his claws plowing the ground, "then I suppose we blighters are just going to go an' help ourselves."

A short moment passed, and it was then Mufasa realized, with a sudden anger, that this had been planned all along. He took an aggressive step forward, daring them to make a quick move on him. A lone wild dog was no match for an adult lion, and they knew that. Unfortunately for him, there were two.

It still was far from a fair fight, but then such foul fighters never fought fair in the first place. Hafifu, who was still behind him and out of his sight for the moment, lunged forward, savagely locking his teeth into his hind leg. The lion king stiffened in surprise, trying to knock the foolish pup off as Shahidi barreled into his side with all the force he could muster, his fangs sinking in along the ridge of the lion's spine.

Mufasa swore under his breath, thrashing around in an attempt to throw them off of him. The canines held on with a vice grip, growling and snarling and shaking, sending him off balance. His legs quickly tangled and it took an effort to keep himself standing upright, his figure shuffling to and fro over thorns and harsh, grating pebbles as he dizzily tried to keep his head.

Finally Mufasa had had enough. Without notice he crashed straight into the nearest boulder, Shahidi letting out a squawk as he was momentarily caught between a rock and a... well, an angry place. He released his grip on the lion's now battered, beaten and likely bruised side—his ribcage had been squeezed and the air was mostly knocked out of him.

The smaller dog still gripped his back leg, tearing into it as harshly as he could with his teeth and clawing him across his limbs and backside every so often. It was distracting, and the predicament made it significantly harder for Mufasa to concentrate as Shahidi doubled back and headed for him again. He was a mere paperweight compared to the lion's muscular and finely-tuned body, but he was eager for as long as he had the advantage, nonetheless.

His larger foe saw the dog's gaping maw for a moment before reflexively sidestepping, Shahidi's muzzle clamping shut on thin air. It was enough for the lion to swing his paw and club him over the head, the lean and grizzled form of his opponent smashing into the ground with a pained sound. Seeing that he was at least temporarily incapacitated, Mufasa turned his attention to the young adolescent who had latched onto his leg like a lamprey.

Normally it would have been easy to finish off his two opponents, but with his legs mostly immobile, it was significantly harder. The adult male whirled around, the dog letting go for just long enough to sink his teeth into his other leg. Mufasa growled and kicked out, his lashing paw giving Hafifu a sharp blow to the skull as he impacted with the stump of a tree. The lock of his jaws loosened slightly, though Mufasa could see out of the corner of his eyes that the first dog was getting up. That would not do.

He lunged towards Shahidi, picking up the surprised dog behind the neck. The canine wriggled and swiped at his face, nicking the lion under the eye and across his muzzle. He growled in pain, jaws tightening as he shifted his grip. Being as light as he was, it wasn't hard for the fully-grown powerhouse of a king to throw him, a lupine-like yelp sounding as Shahidi bashed his compatriot hard with the whole force of his body. Hafifu was torn from his grip—a considerable hunk of leg flesh going with him—and the two of them had rolled several feet back.

Mufasa had every intention of finishing them off, or at least pinning them and demanding some sort of explanation before exile. But already the two had backed up several steps, a newfound fear glimmering bright in their eyes. Suddenly the smaller of them spoke, his bloodied and seemingly crippled figure whimpering copiously.

"It ain't worth the trouble," he whined, "it ain't, chap. I knew it from the start."

Shahidi backed up several more steps in fright, eyes darting between an approaching Mufasa and a terrified companion. They had made their decision, for the fight was no longer theirs to win.

"_Scram, mate!" _he motioned away with several running steps, Mufasa staggering after him as well as he could. The rage was clear from the lion's eyes and from the teeth which hung out from his lips._ "_Bloody hell, he'll finish us! Beat it!"

Just like that they were gone, both of them bolting and yipping with their tails shamefully wedged between their legs as they ran like cowards for their lives. Mufasa limped, knowing he could not catch them—however, he would contact Zazu about all this from Rafiki's tree. He had to go there anyways, and with these newfound injuries it was probably best that he headed over right away.

Hopefully he would be able to catch these two before too much time passed, and maybe figure out why they'd jumped him in the first place.

* * *

><p>"Wake up."<p>

Small words did not prod his query's idle mind.

"_Scar_," he tapped the lion harshly with a paw, hoping to rouse him, "... wake up. _Now_."

"... Mmmmm...?"

The younger lion's reply—if, indeed, such a weak moan even constituted a reply—was tainted with lethargy. His eyes shifted open slowly, and he squinted as though he were terrified of the meager light. He looked a lot weaker than when his older brother had last seen him.

"Muffy?" He hadn't called him that name in years. "Hi... hi, Muffy. What's that behind you?"

His voice was oddly pleasant, though Mufasa had to genuinely ask about what his brother meant when he looked over his shoulder and found only blank space stretching behind him, a large expanse of savanna grass illuminated by the occasional dappled moonbeams.

"What in kings' name are you talking about?"

"Oh..." he mumbled dismissively, vaguely disjointed and clearly lost, "alright." He closed his eyes again, and Mufasa could see that his relatively soft breathing was becoming labored. Sweat glistened off his chest and he could tell by his pinched expression that he was in pain.

Mufasa pulled part of a carcass over his shoulder and let it thump to the ground like a dead weight. His expression was indifferent—he didn't trust the huntresses to hunt for the wounded lion, and he himself wasn't in the best shape. The meat had come from the pantry.

"Eat this when you want it. Where's Rafiki?"

Scar groaned again, not bothering to look him in the eye or even to open his. "Muffy... you smell like wet dog." He paused, letting the words sink in as Mufasa instinctively bristled. "Why is that, Muffy?"

"Stop calling me Muffy," the golden lion snarled, looking irritated. "And don't bring that up again. I'm sore of your _stupid _complaints."

Scar normally would have retorted with a snarky one-liner, but luckily for the both of them, the dark lion was not in the right mind to do so, or even to think up a coherent response. Mufasa's inflammatory comments would not instigate a heated discussion on this night.

"Muffy's consorting with murderers," he trailed off distantly. "Hypocrite."

Mufasa rolled his eyes and decided to retreat before his temper got a hold of him, as he was far from in the best of moods. Limping across the sunset-lit plains and past Pride Rock until he could get to the tree had not been enjoyable, and he knew that Scar would inevitably argue with him over the subject of the canines once again. In the end his younger brother, despite his former acceptance of such brutes as the hyenas, hated the wild dogs with a passion as they did. He held them responsible for their mother's murder, despite the evidence. For according to him, the hyenas were innocent in that regard.

Of course, the whole land knew of the filthy beasts' murder of the former king. Their father. Scar had never denied that, though in his mind, such a life-changing event _doubtlessly _wasn't even important. Mufasa half-envied his ignorance.

The golden figure crawled through the sprawling upper branches of the baobab, his face and most of his body cast in shadow. The sky itself was almost completely black, for the wet season had gathered up many thick, inky clouds overhead. Additionally, the moon had already almost disappeared, leaving only a silver crescent. Everything was empty... dark. Rather like his state of mind.

"Ah, my friend, it seems dee wild dogs have upset you. Do not take it personally."

"But... how did you—?"

"Dere is nothing in dees kingdom I do not know, Mufasa," he laughed cheerily and bared his teeth, waving his staff as he swung around in the branches. "Msaada has told Zazu. Your bird is out dere now, and he will find dem. Have faith."

Rafiki jumped from his place in the tree, wrapping an arm around his leonine companion. "Dere are many out dere to support you, friend. You have no need to fear. Let me fix up de wounds now—lay over by de pile of leaves down dere."

Mufasa did as he was told, reclining silently next to the leaves that the mandrill used as bandages. He couldn't very well see his wounds in the night, but he could tell that none of them were particularly serious. Other than being scuffed up a little, his torn up leg was his most salient concern. And even that was probably fixable. He lay his head down on the bark, his breathing relaxing and his heartbeat resounding in his ears.

He could still see Scar, his dark paws groping around in the night. His body seemed to twitch slightly, like he was writhing. He could see the scarce moonlight illuminate the blotchy patches of blood, the intertwined bandages and the ugly line of stitches which snaked across his belly. Looking at him was almost painful in itself.

What happened?

Msaada fluttered up to the tree, his tired little self a flurry of purple feathers. His eyes drooped, though this did not show in his respectful speech.

"Master Shaman, the giraffe you saw last week is having a relapse. He's sneezing and coughing so badly, I think his herdmates are worried."

He bowed low, waiting for an affirmation from the mandrill.

"Ah, de cold again. I am saddened to say dat has been spreading. Tell him to keep chewing the roca leaf, dat does wonders for de chills." Rafiki leapt down to Mufasa's side, his deft hands examining him efficiently. "He will need to come to de tree if it gets much worse, Msaada."

"Of course, master." He bowed his head. "I tried my best, and will tell him so. How is the lion?"

Rafiki wiped away the blood and dust from a wound on Mufasa's side, beginning to treat it with a balm. It smarted slightly, though the king could take it.

"How _is_ my brother?" Mufasa asked through gritted teeth, wincing as Rafiki tightened a bandage around one of his limbs. "He looks worse than this morning."

"Ah, he is doing better, I think." Rafiki moved to Mufasa's other side to get a better view of the scratch on his muzzle. "I had to clean de wounds out. I gave him some of de painkillers you found, Msaada. He will be fine, but he might need some more to help heem."

Mufasa looked again at Scar, knowing that any such sedatives probably had side effects. He was likely half out of his mind already.

Poor thing.

"I'll mix some, Master Shaman. You will need to give him the medicine."

Msaada flew up into the canopy, and rustling was heard as he dove through the various containers, the various herbs and ointments and concoctions. Instruments and paints, balms and powerful drugs. They were all up there, all resting in their respective places in a sort of organized chaos.

Mufasa winced again. Rafiki was looking at the back of his hind leg, part of which had been torn out. Wild dogs didn't have particularly sharp teeth, large jaws, or a powerful bite, luckily, but already there was some blood encrusted there. The mandrill gently deterged it.

Msaada flew down suddenly, motioning to a coconut bowl which hung in the branches. His delicate, avian form was incapable of lifting it. He hopped over next to Mufasa as Rafiki nimbly moved away. The purple bird was inches from Mufasa's nose.

"Hello, sire. I see you're not feeling so well?" His voice was patient.

"Not so much," Mufasa grimaced, watching as Rafiki approached his brother. "Have you seen those two ruffians yet?"

"No, Your Majesty. I talked to Zazu, but as far as I know, they fled into the hyena's land. Probably not the best for them." He waddled closer. "In other news, Miss Nyota was inquiring after you. The lionesses were worried when you didn't return."

Mufasa again gritted his teeth. He hadn't spoken to them when he'd passed Pride Rock... that probably would have been a good idea, but he was hurt and he knew Zazu was still monitoring the territory and would not be there.

"I don't see why they'd care." Mufasa watched idly as Rafiki gently lifted the dark lion's head, attempting to get him to drink the solution down. Instantly he sputtered, spitting half of it out. "Nyota..."

The bird shuffled his wingtips together nervously, a tic that reminded him vaguely of Zazu. "Yes, your grace, she was asking about the two of you. She said she wanted to talk to your brother."

Rafiki tried again, one of his feet clutching the bowl as he slowly pried the lion's jaws open. He carefully poured it down his throat, the lion clenching his muscles and trying to fight absently. After a few moments his injured charge again tried to cough it up, though the mandrill muzzled him tightly and tried to coax him into swallowing.

"That's not a good idea. Neither of us are looking well," he replied morosely, a hint of long-held frustration and anger wearing at his voice. "I can't even patrol the borders without getting jumped anymore."

His eyes glanced downwards. "I'm not a fit king for my people. A little bit of tragedy throws me into turmoil. I can't do anything anymore... I'm a weakling." He gritted his teeth again, being brutally honest. More so than he'd been in a while.

Scar finally gave up, accepting whatever fluid the ape had given him. His head flopped back onto the bark, not bothering to stifle a dazed moan. Already his eyes were shut; he would probably be out for a long while.

"Well, sire, if you ever change your mind..." Msaada turned around and crouched, preparing to fly towards a restless giraffe herd to the south, "she says that she will try to help you in any way she can."

"Thank you, Msaada," he smiled weakly, secretly wondering why in spirits' name Nyota wanted anything to do with Scar, or with himself for that matter. It struck him as suspicious, even regarding her docile personality. What would she say or do? How, really, could she be more of a help than she and the other loyal lionesses were already? He pondered it, for he was uncertain. Yet perhaps, someday, he would find out for himself.

He would have to drop her a visit—in thanks, if not for anything else. For at this point, it felt good to know that his pride and his friends were still supporting him, despite the misfortunes and his own shortcomings.

In the meantime, however, he was being treated for an attack from two disgruntled subjects, with his traitorous brother passed out and hovering on the verge of death just a few feet away.

There were many problems he had to solve, and still more yet that he had to face.

* * *

><p><em>Like I said, mostly Mufasa-centric, with more on this new wild dog thing... I've been thinking lately about this sudden addition, and I believe that they are going to play a major role later on. So just hold on to your hats. You'll find out why the two Aussie dogs attacked him later. Speaking of which...<em>

_Shahidi - witness_

_Hafifu - weak_

_Dogo (the dog from last chapter) - small/young_

_I think the only reason I didn't kill these two is because they were more comic relief-type characters... it just didn't seem quite right. You might see them again - frankly, I'm not sure. xD _

_Nyota also wants to talk to Mufasa... hmm, I wonder what that conversation will bring?_

_Review if you liked this chapter. And if you didn't, do leave some tips on things I could have done differently for future reference. As always, I would love to hear from every one of you. Obviously that doesn't quite happen, but if you have anything to say then don't be shy! You've made it this far. ;)_

_Espero que les gustara esta capítulo._

_Twin :)_


	33. Life and Death

_**A/N:**_

_I know it's only been a day since I last updated, but personally, that's probably not something to complain about. xP I decided to really put my nose to the grindstone here... since people seem to be concerned about whether this does, in fact, have an ending. I've been working on it for months now, but I think we'd all like to see the ending, right? Well, just be prepared... I'll try to focus on this fic as much as possible. And I will finish what I started here. :p_

_My spell check is still as useless as a digital paperweight, so keep looking for errors. Reviews(!)._

**_Night-Waker: _**_I agree. TLK:6NA just really messes up people's ideas of canon. I mean, just think: if it weren't for the guy who wrote that, those stupid Kopa arguments would never have existed. And I totally see what you mean about Scar being drunk. I think he would be a bit of a drunkard if it were even remotely possible for a lion to distill alcohol. XD_

**_DarthRushy: _**_You'll see. I have things planned for Simba. ;)_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Oooh, airports! I see yours has good Wi-Fi. x) Because it's a funny story... to get to Nevada we had to drive from Washington to Oregon, then take a flight back to Washington before going down here. There was a lot of waiting involved and the internet was pitifully slow. x.x Kinda sucked, but at least I got to write Mufasa beating up Shahidi. Nice to hear my accents aren't horrible: there's actually very few British people here so I had to imagine it all. Just like nearly everything else I write. lol_

**_readsmanyfavsfew: _**_Dude, long time no see, right? xD Well, thanks for leaving a review again. I understand what you're getting at, and I took all of it into consideration. I really miss the old in-depth reviews you used to leave, but I understand you've probably been busy, so... no pressure. :p Thanks for sharing your opinion._

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Yeah, I realize they probably weren't super-authentic, and most Australian people would look at me like I was on drugs, but as long as it sounds genuine then I am pleased. :p Not sure about Scar there... he was strung out on... something... so he's probably going to see and hear and say weird things. lol Thanks for the review._

**_Aweosmeness4eva: _**_Glad to hear it! Well, not that you're probably super tired, but that at that moment, reading my story meant more to you than sleep. xP I've been there too. lol_

**_pokeking95: _**_Indonesia, now? Wow, sounds like you get to go places. A bummer you can't really enjoy it. DX Glad you enjoyed the chapter... I seem to be getting differing comments about the pacing in general, so it's hard to decide where and when to put things. x.x __And no problem about the Spanish... I too had to look up how to form the imperfect subjunctive, since that's about the one tense I don't know (and, conveniently, the one my friend quizzes me on because she thinks she knows more Spanish than I do. Keep in mind that this is the person who asks me what stuff means even though she's a year ahead of me xP). Admittedly, though, I do most of my learning outside of class. x.x Yo espero que sea en el cuarto año ahora... taking Spanish 3 seems kind of pointless._

**_mom: _**_Yeah, last chapter was more of the comic relief chapter. I don't know why, but between the Aussie wild dogs and just the general mood, it was kind of silly. x) Things will probably be back to normal now._

_I wrote this first part last night and was unsure whether to leave it in or move it elsewhere. If anything seems out of place or random, let me know. I don't want to wander too much._

* * *

><p>He was running—very far, very fast. It was a cold, dark morning: the type to send shivers running across any reasonable animal's body. The sun had not yet breached the horizon, and a piercing glint reflected from his eyes as he ran about in chilling fog.<p>

The lion didn't know why he was running, yet he blended into the shadows so well with his darkened pelt. He could feel his paws flying across the ground, the disheveled fur flapping briskly in the breeze and his claws tracing lines in the dirt.

_I'm coming._

The sweat poked from his skin and hung close to his spine. He was hot even in the damp, dank atmosphere, probably because of his fear. Every sense was heightened. He could hear the words, and he knew he wasn't moving quite fast enough.

_I'm coming for you, and I will show no mercy._

He pushed himself, willed himself to go faster. Everything blurred around him, though to keep up this speed he had to gasp. His lungs burned with a need, an edacity for air in a suffocating place. Yet he had reached his end, for ahead of him towered rocks higher than any of those he had ever known.

It reminded him vaguely of a place he had once visited, where hooves had long since leveled the earth and blood had smeared its floor, yet now every feature was mountainous. Scoping, sharply-pointed rocks climbed higher than he could ever scale, and they stretched in every direction. It was pitch dark down below, the shadows swallowing him up and the whole place emitting a horrifying aura. He was trapped here, like a prey animal.

_No place to go, no place to run..._

The lion heard nothing more. There was no audible sound, yet still another sense of his seemed to prick. He _knew _something was behind him without the noise, and suddenly, fearfully, he turned around and looked over his shoulder.

What he saw stabbed him like a knife in the chest.

"Hi."

His face went ghostly white.

"S-S-S-Simba?" he stammered, barely able to speak. "W-What are you doing down here, ch-child?"

"What's wrong?" The voice continued without answering his question, the little golden cub somehow glimmering in the midst of the fog. "Why do you look so... _frightened_? Afraid to see your victim alive again?"

He didn't know why, but every drop of blood in his body turned to ice in that moment. This wasn't right. Simba was... Simba was _dead_.

"Uncle, _uncle_, come on. Come closer." The cub took several steps forward, causing the lion to press himself into the wall.

"_N-n-no, please, stay away." _He bristled defensively, though nothing fazed the little figurine sauntering nearby.

"Why do you hate me, uncle? Is it because I remind you of how I was before I died?" He laughed. "Well, no worries, I can change, uncle. I can change... _just for you_."

He grinned, though this was no innocent, cub-like grin. It was a sinister, hateful expression. And suddenly, within a moment, he did begin to change. His face began to droop as though it were melting, showing the round and exposed eyeballs under a half-liquefied mass. His fur came off in clumps until he was hairless, and his flesh followed in rough pieces. Worms were crawling through his insides, and every part of him was rotting.

"_Do you like me now?!" _he screeched, his voice changed to one of a harpy as he assailed the cringing figure of his murderer. "_Do you like me now, uncle?"_

And then he instantly appeared next to the terrified lion, looking up at him with a twisted neck. The finishing touch of his death pose. The lion curled up defensively, trying to shield his eyes but knowing he didn't stand a chance. He cried out, he begged and pleaded... but he wasn't sure of what he was even saying and he knew he would go unheeded.

"_How about now? Now that I'm DEAD?!" _a horrible growl racked the small figure—a sound much more potent than any produced in life. His eyes burned through him, seemingly boring into him with his gaze.

"Look at me, uncle... _LOOK AT ME!"_

"NO!" He roared with his entire being, defiant. "Leave me be!"

Simba stared at him, his look made of pure malice and hatred. Yet as he looked closer, he saw with sudden realization that this wasn't Simba. Namely because Simba didn't have fangs that were as long and sharp as sabers. He didn't have hooked claws capable of splitting flesh, or a horrible red tint to his skin that made him look like he was on fire. His eyes hadn't burned with the flames of the underworld, alight with a glint to make his skin crawl.

This wasn't Simba at all.

"_I shall see to it that you _suffer. _For all your evil deeds, you will be mine to torment forever._" His fangs aligned together in a wicked smile. The fear returned to his victim, burning in his jade eyes as he realized he was powerless. "_You shall die, and you shall simmer in the blood which you have spilled._"

Slowly he disappeared into the mist, everything evaporating except for the pointed eyes and the wide, toothy smile. It stared back at him from the fog... which he found was not fog, but rather suffocating sprigs of thick, black smoke. He could not breathe, for under his feet was kindled a conflagration the likes of which he had never seen.

But the most fearsome was the blood, which was filling the gorge like a bathtub.

"You're out of time."

No. This wasn't right. This wasn't rig—

"AAAAAAAACCK—" His cry was cut short by a horrible cough. Terror and desperation unlike any he'd ever known penetrated intensely through every orifice of his body as he found that he was stuck, the creature still staring at him blissfully as he was coated up to his chin in blood: thick, boiling rivers of it. His skin instantly blistered from the heat, which tore through him and burned him from the inside out. He couldn't breathe through the smoke which had coated his lungs and smothered him, yet neither could he extricate himself, no matter how passionately he struggled. It flowed through him, the fires tearing at his deepest, innermost core... he knew he should have been dying, but he was very much alive and his senses were still heightened—all he could feel was the choking, constricting pain burning and torturing him from every angle.

"You chose this yourself. And now you'll be mine... _forever and ever_..."

Everything darkened into a pitch hue, the walls resounding with sadistic laughter that echoed through the space. He wriggled and squirmed, yet there was no escaping fate, nor the horrible voices which reverberated everywhere and worked their way into his skull. Death. That was what this was... death.

And he'd lost.

"HHEEEELLLLP ME! HHEELLLL—pffftgkk!"

Scar woke up with a start, a horrible gasp splitting his injured figure. Pain instantly shot up from his chest, which was hot and trying to contain the breakneck speed of his heartbeat. His entire body was quivering and slick with sweat. Nobody was around in the pitch dark except himself.

"_Just a dream... it's just a dream_," he whispered quietly, though in truth, that didn't even begin to cover it. He closed his eyes, yet the vision of fires still lingered behind his eyelids. Even catching his breath was difficult.

He'd never quite had a nightmare like that.

* * *

><p>Usiku never walked; she prowled. And when she prowled, she was usually angry.<p>

This was no exception.

She'd been a rogue before. That didn't bother her. But being stuck with a whole pride's worth of lionesses in addition to herself made the whole situation addling. She couldn't very well leave them... they needed a leader, and she had already inadvertently cast herself into that position.

It was hot during the day, and now that the night had come and enveloped her midnight coat, she could feel droplets of frost gathering on the ends of her whiskers. There was little water in the parched environment, for the fertile Pridelands lay to the south and they received most of the precipitation. Most likely, the presence of Mount Kilimanjaro to the north broke up any incoming clouds, and the desiccated terrain was lacking in vegetation and thus prey animals as a result. Generally they were reduced to scavenging the carcasses of lost or roaming herds who were passing through by happenstance. And that was difficult.

The hyenas lived to the west, and they were anything but pleasant neighbors. They often crossed into her impromptu territory, and scuffles between her lionesses and the ravenous fiends were frequent. That was something she could not deal with—something would have to change. Thus her plan had started. A plan that would end in vengeance, and also get those hell-hounds off of her tail.

She stopped around the site of a large boulder. This was the agreed meeting spot. Her hired paws were already waiting for her, their figures already masked by the darkness.

"Hello, friends." She smiled, her fangs glinting off the moon's minimal light as she arrived. "How did it go?"

"A'ight, a'ight, this'll take some explaining, miss." The older one dipped his head slightly in respect. "Please don't get your knickers too much in a twist, now."

"Aye, twisted knickers oft drive me crazy!" She heard a whimper from the younger one. "There isn't need for that, I 'ope."

Stupid dogs.

"Oh, no, I'm not... _angry_... Shahidi," she traced a circle in the dirt with her claw innocently. "What would lead you to believe that?"

"Aye, now that's a relief, missus. We were worried you'd go straight _bonkers_." Shahidi's face was somber. "Blimey, I'm being honest. The king over 'ere wasn't right hospitable. We came back before we were bloody killed."

Usiku was secretly delighted. She knew that two wild dogs would not be a fair match against the king, and she had not hoped for the golden lion's demise. However, with any luck, this provocation would anger him... and perhaps lead to the exile of some certain canines into hyena territory.

This, however, she kept to herself.

"Oh, Shahidi, you don't look _too _hurt. Surely you aren't a _coward_, now?"

"No, no, we gave it our all, miss! He was too strong, it 'as a real shame, that one." He averted his gaze, looking slightly ashamed.

"Yeah, 'e was gonna hurt us real bad, an' Shahidi was right scared outta his wits—"

"_HAFIFU_," the older dog snapped in irritation, "you blighter! How many times do I have to right tell you to _close your bloody mouth?_" Adolescent Hafifu instantly recoiled as though he had been struck, a soft cry coming from his groveling figure. And then the apology came. "Sorry, miss. He 'as raised by meerkats. Blasted rodents ought to learn some manners."

"Aye, yeah." Hafifu agreed quietly. "They 'ere no more polite than a handful 'a interrupting rats."

"Well, that's a shame." Usiku cleared her throat. "But now that we've discussed the parenting skills of meerkats, let's get on to more important news... I'd say that staying out of the Pridelands would be your best bet, hmm?"

"Absolutely, miss. That 'as just my feeling. Vengeance ain't worth the two cents worth 'a thought put into it."

"_Hmm-hm-hm_," she chuckled, again exposing gleaming fangs. "You two are awful smart. That's why I entrusted this to _you _alone." And also because they were the only ones stupid or desperate enough she could find to help her.

"A'ight, yeah, it was awful good 'a you, there, miss. We are eternally grateful for the assistance you provided for us. We got naught a complaint..." Shahidi trailed off nervously, his muzzle showing fangs in a sheepish expression. "... but, eh, if it ain't too much of a trouble for you, we'd right like to know about our payment."

"_Payment?" _Usiku suddenly looked angry, her raspy voice causing them both to cringe. "_PAYMENT? _Who said anything about _payment_, you greedy bastards?"

Shahidi winced, quickly backtracking. "Oh, aye, no, I agree. We wild dogs are a bunch 'a needy blighters, it's true, but, eh, this old chap needs someone to right look after 'im. That's all I 'as gettin' at. I ain't looking for nothing you don't want to give me as my due." He laughed nervously. "Payment? No, no one said anything about proper payment. 'Tis not necessary, miss."

"Good." She looked relieved, though it was obvious they were looking for something. Her glib tongue continued to speak. "I mean, this was just your _duty_. You _had _to avenge Ulaghai, Dogo, and all those other packmates you lost to those... er, _blasted... _hyenas, didn't you?"

They seemed to accept that answer. The hatred between the dogs and the hyenas was mutual. Ever since that fateful day, they'd been all but at each other's throats.

"... This wouldn't have happened if Mufasa didn't banish them for the queen's murder. But he's too proud to help you out against a common enemy, I see... just as I predicted. A shame you couldn't kill him... so tell me, did the king... _banish _you?"

"Aye, mate, 'e didn't banish us proper. But I right believe 'e'd have our skins out on Pride Rock if we returned, you get me, miss?" He coughed. "An' Uru...? Why, 'at's a sore wound. My mum 'ad to 'ave been a wee thing at the time, I don't see why 'e'd have a grudge for that. But near every savanna animal hates us outright... and for good reason, I don't blame 'em. We can more 'an strike up fear in their hearts."

Usiku scoffed. That was true. They were walking con men, scavengers, gangs of murderers and liars and common, petty thieves. Why Mufasa allowed them to stay in the Pridelands, she didn't know.

"Well, you can't live here with my little pride. No hard feelings, but I have too many mouths to feed, and you two strike me as _exceptionally_ resourceful."

Her obsequious comments went straight to their heads—her equivocal message for them to get out went in one ear and out the other. They smiled bashfully, forgetting about any possibility of recompense.

"Aye, miss, you're bloody right about that one!" Shahidi laughed or, rather, wheezed his amusement. "The most shifty, sly, street smart creatures that 'ere ever born on the plains! We can right provide for ourselves—we don't need any assistance from lions."

"Oi, yes, we can provide our _own _path!" Hafifu piped up. His enthusiasm rekindled despite his companion's harsh look. "No need for you to give us _anything_! Not a bite!"

Usiku suppressed a smile. All thought of being forced to repay them was lost. Not only had they forgotten their immediate need for it, but they were telling her _not _to help them.

Stupid dogs.

"Well, then, if you don't need me, I'm sure you can go to the outskirts of our little territory and find something to eat. I wish you two the best of luck."

She bowed her head and sniggered slightly to herself. If the hyenas found them, then they would be killed on the spot. And thus more wild dogs would seek vengeance. It was a cycle that, if played right, would get the hyenas and canines both banished and fighting a bloody war amongst themselves in the Outlands. If they were to kill each other, she wouldn't care. The less competition there was, the better. She could finish up the dregs of their survivors if necessary.

And the stronger and better-fed her pride was, then the more they could prepare for their own vengeance on Mufasa.

* * *

><p>"'Ey, it's my little chap! The princess!"<p>

It was a summer day in the desert, and a hot one at that. The sun had beat down on the shifting sand dunes, reflecting a glimmering, shimmering aura in the air around them. A little pale cub was bouncing in delight around the shifting sands: she was quick and agile, already used to the constantly roiling terrain and the heat which it gave off. Her tough little paws had enjoyed the cool of the oasis, where she had spent the day by herself... until one of her closest friends arrived.

A friend who wasn't even a lion—for in these parts, lions did not rule over the other animals. Each group ruled over themselves as nomads, moving around the golden sands to eke out their own livelihoods. Prides were scarce, and finding a playmate was often hard.

"Mlinda!" She cried out with joy as she splashed in crystal pools, jumping and bounding over to her friend. A canine who was slightly older than her, lean and yet strong. A close friend and a protector who was fiercely loyal.

She hugged him around the neck, burying her face in his soft, grizzled coat as she took in his familiar scent. She looked up to him and, in a way, loved him. For he reminded her of her brother, someone she hadn't seen in a long time...

"Mlinda, I thought you had hunting lessons with the pack! Shouldn't you be over there?"

"Aye, my friend, I did. But they're over now... my mum said I could spend some time with you. It's been a long while." He closed his eyes, enjoying her warm hug.

"It has." She released him from her embrace so that he could see her excited smile. "What do you want to do? I've been playing in the oasis all day."

He chuckled, seeing the muddy paws of hers which had been dabbling in the mucky bottom of the lake. Behind her were clouds of dirt and dust disturbing the otherwise turquoise waters. "I can see that, you little rascal."

She leapt at him and smacked him hard on the shoulder, instantly recoiling with a cry of "tag, you're it!" The princess giggled, beckoning him to follow her as she ran up the dune. "Come on, I know a _great _place to play!"

"A'ight, a'ight, I'm coming!" He lowered his head and ran full speed up the dune, his paws sending sand flying everywhere. The lioness zigzagged and zoomed across the shifting hills, clearly very happy. She jumped over the top of the dune, and was running very fast until she tripped on a slight abnormality in the otherwise pure grains of sand. She couldn't help but fall, tumbling and rolling down the hill until she landed at the bottom with a soft sound.

The dog followed, approaching her with a smile. "I'm gonna get ya, mate!"

"No, no! Stop!" She giggled as he leapt on top of her, rolling around and trying to wrestle. "Stop, Mlinda, stop!" The princess continued to laugh, their rowdy playing dying down as he licked her on the face with his tongue, a canine signal of affection. His wet nose brushed against her fur, sniffing.

His sense of smell, as a dog, was extremely powerful. Suddenly, and without any warning, his amused face turned deadly serious. He arose quickly, his fur bristling as he motioned for his friend to do the same.

"What's wrong?" The princess stopped laughing when she saw his face, standing by his side with a concerned expression. There was no answer. "Mlinda..."

"_Stay here_," he barked, his voice intense. They looked at each other for a long moment, the princess trying to smell whatever it was that had made him agitated. He suddenly trotted across the sand, a gust of wind revealing what the lioness had tripped over.

A pelvic bone was sticking straight up out of the sand, bleached white by the sun. Whatever it was, it had been here a while. Yet something about it seemed familiar, and it was enough to send fear into them both.

The princess stood still, and their eyes met from across the dune. With a sudden understanding, and a terror which rendered her motionless, she mouthed the words.

"Kuachwa."

* * *

><p><em>You know, it's kind of funny, because every time I write for the princess, I have to resist using her name. xP Which is... *drumroll*<em>

_Not saying. I'll tell you Mlinda's name, though... it's a defender or a protector._

_Hoping to get as much done as I can during the summer. If I'm lucky, maybe it'll be done by the end of the year. *shrugs* Who knows? As always, I'd love to hear your opinions! The story is progressing as planned, and before you know it, it might be over. So say what you want to say! These comments really help me out, and yes, I do try to listen to them. :)_

_Hasta nos vemos una a la otra de nuevo... or something, I really don't know. xD_

_Twin ;o_


	34. Deadly Nightshade

_**A/N: **_

_Hey everyone, I'm back for Chapter 34. Hope you've been enjoying this thus far! And also that I didn't scare anyone too badly last chapter. I guess that's just what happens when I combine my more macabre side with the fact that we had to read Dante's Inferno last year. _

_Also, thanks to those of you who pointed out errors. I'll fix those presently. x)_

_Reviews!_

**_mom: _**_Yeah, you're first today. xD I guess Shahidi making up excuses for his companion's behavior was kind of a running gag or something. I do want to get this finished... if I don't focus then my scatterbrain will never end this. x)_

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Heheh, thanks! XD Those are some interesting thoughts as to the origins/causes of Scar's nightmare. I myself have my own ideas... though I'm not going to quite give it all away yet. There's a time and a place for everything._

**_IronicSnap: _**_*uncurls from ball* There there, it's okay. xD *pats back* You'll be fine. And yes, as a matter of fact, Scar IS the princess! You figured it out! lol All joking aside, I'm really not sure whether I should be glad that I freaked you out or feel bad for you. I mean, that's what I was trying to do after all. xP And you'll see Usiku more this chapter. _

**_Night-Waker: _**_Bah, yes, I am not a Kopa believer. xP (Honestly, I always feel like it's some sort of religion when I say that. Next they're going to have fish-shaped bumper stickers saying "KOPA DIED FOR YOU" or something. xD). Ahem, anyways... glad you liked the nightmare! Again, some very interesting theories. I'll have to see where I'm going to take it. And yes, Usiku definitely is up to something. Expect to see a lot more of her._

**_irishlovatic: _**_Great to hear it! I've done that with a few stories too, except I always feel super lazy when I sit there and read in the middle of the day. lolol Glad you liked my characters too! :) Hope you continue!_

**_pokeking95: _**_Heh, yeah, when I get really motivated I can write a ton. In fact, I believe I wrote that whole nightmare scene in about an hour or so. This one was a little more tricky, so... maybe you can enjoy this chapter in Dubai? xP lol So glad you liked the last one! I'll get back to the princess soon enough... I don't think she will be very happy to find her brother's friend dead in the sand. x.x Oh, and thanks for spotting that... I believe someone else also said something. On closer inspection, I see I also misspelled "poinetd" (pointed) and "theives" (thieves). Guess spell check isn't something you appreciate until it's gone... albeit the fact that nearly everything it pointed out was stupid sentence fragments and 99% of the hyena's dialogue. -.-_

_Gracias para los consejos. Todavía no he recibido una profesora que tiene mucho experiencía con el idioma (ie, un hispanohablante nativo), y yo aprendí casi todo por yo mismo. Por eso, yo no pienso que sería bien para tomar un curso que solamente explica los tiempos... even though I have heard that Spanish 4 is harder. :/ They told me I shouldn't, but I heard of another girl who was doing it and I figured that if she could do it, there's no way I couldn't. xP I mean, the only thing they actually taught us was the present, preterite, and imperfect... which is easy, in my opinion. So I guess I'll just cross my fingers and hope for the best. _

**_Aweosmeness4eva: _**_Thanks! So glad you liked that intro! I wasn't even sure if I'd keep it in. lol_

_I think this is Chapter 5 sans spell check. So keep your eyes peeled. lol_

* * *

><p>"Are you alright? Do you need help?"<p>

"For the hundredth blasted time, _yes_, Mufasa, I'm fine." Scar's face reflected his stubbornness. No, he would do as much of this on his own as he could. Yet Mufasa still stood by his side, offering up his shoulder—a brace the darker lion inevitably had to lean on every few steps.

Several days had passed since the older lion's incident with the wild dogs. They'd never found the culprits, and nothing more had reared its head since then... yet Mufasa still felt the oddest tension in spite of all this. The responsibility he owed to his kingdom nagged at him constantly, far more than any of the physical pain ever did.

Mufasa wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten Scar out of the tree, though the latter had been lying in the same spot for a long time. Every time the golden lion arrived he complained profusely—it was clear that he needed to move around. Otherwise he felt trapped, and when he felt trapped it was natural for him to lash out.

They'd gone a little walk of sorts. It was rather slow going, for Scar's limbs were still very weak and they barely supported him. Every couple of paces he would have to stop and catch his breath—the fact that it was a hot morning did nothing to help, and they had not even moved out of sight of the tree before he was drenched in sweat that stung his eyes and caused his fur to clump with wetness.

Indeed, everything about him looked... sunken. His eyes bore into everything from the depths of their sockets, his skin was folded loosely in the gaps between his bones, stretching over his frame and suggesting the figure of his ribcage before falling away and exposing a gaunt stomach. His spine, too, was sway-backed, and every one of his vertebrae was visible. He looked like a skeleton with a fur coat thrown carelessly around it... and that was before the many scratches and bandaged wounds were taken into account.

Again he was leaning against the older lion, gritting his teeth with the effort required. And then he would take a few limping steps forward, trying to keep his weight off of his ravaged hind leg. Mufasa half-wondered why they had to do this today, though in truth he was pleased to see that his brother was convalescing in at least some small way.

Scar finally lay down in the muddy, dusty ground, right next to a small river which flowed nearby. The baobab was no longer visible, though it was just behind the crest of the gentle, grassy hill they'd walked across. Already the vegetation was growing green and lush again, the parched yellow stalks making way for tender sprigs of fresh, new life. The brook burbled pleasantly, and as he shifted his weight to get comfortable and ensure that his injured leg was not pressed, he found that he rather enjoyed this... whatever this was.

Excursion.

Mufasa stood awkwardly, distantly... until he realized that his brother intended to stay awhile. The golden lion stretched and clambered down to his knees carefully, before laying his head down gently on his front paws and studying the stream.

It was quite nice, that much could not be denied... but as usual, something troubled the older brother. His expression was a melancholic façade that showed little of his inner emotion... especially considering that half of his muzzle was buried in his fur and his wind-swept mane intermittently covered the hurt look in his eyes.

Time passed, and though the sun beat down on the both of them, neither of them really noticed it anymore. Mufasa simply watched idly, eyes flickering towards his brother as the younger lion crawled forward carefully and took a drink.

He looked so unfazed by everything. In a way, he almost looked innocent... though Mufasa knew that could not be so anymore. In spite of that, though, he was here, calmly sitting in a field together with his younger sibling. The one who was estranged from the pride, who seemed to hold an inner animus and who-knew-what kinds of secret malice against them. But all he was doing was simply sating his thirst nonchalantly, as though nothing else mattered anymore.

Mufasa promptly averted his gaze, his emotions mixed. Despite—or perhaps because of—everything, he still had his demons to face.

Scar, for his part, drew back quietly from his place and lay his head down on a soft pillow of grass, the bristly hairs of his goatee dragging wet droplets across the ground. His expression was collected, such that it was almost peaceful... yet though he would normally have liked nothing better than to enjoy a short nap here under the warm sun, he didn't dare to do so. Not anymore.

Things had changed. Something had afflicted him, and it showed in his droopy, bloodshot eyes. For he knew that no matter what he did, the darkest and most grisly parts of his psyche were looming in wait, hoping to entangle him in the clutches of his sleep. The one place he could not control to at least some extent.

The presence of the drugs Rafiki had given him in order to ease the pain—which were doubtlessly hallucinogenic considering the wide array of strange appearances he had witnessed and the number of fictional beings he had tried to talk to—only augmented the presence and magnitude of his already-terrifying nightmares. Even now the world looked odd, and false; the faintest tendrils still hung onto him, flowing through his blood and causing him to see such unnatural things as a blue-green sky, a purple-striped zebra... and other illusions which were not really, truly there.

It wasn't nearly as bad now as it had been before, though when he looked back on those fuzziest, most unclear moments, he was quite convinced that he slowly yet surely losing his mind. Alas, he still didn't know if the demonic figure of Simba—which he saw nearly every time he dreamed—was an actual evil spirit or just an embodiment of his guilt and thus a figment of his own twisted imagination. Hell, for all he knew, the haunting being could have really been Simba. He didn't know.

They lay there for a time, both engrossed in their own thoughts. Their mouths were silent, visages distant and vaguely troubled. It was the sort of moment where time stood still, where the bubbling of the water stretched into the future and the past, the sounds of nature untainted as they always were and always would be for an endless eternity.

Both were as still and quiescent as their surroundings. Until, of course, Mufasa spoke.

"... What are we even doing here?" he buried his head deep in his paws, a rueful chuckle breaking the cold silence. "... Look at us."

Two brothers in the midst of a quiet plain, looking out and seemingly into their futures. Ahead of them there was a lot lying in wait. Mufasa could not say if he felt hope or despair there.

"We're lying by a river," Scar rebutted flatly, disenchanted. "What's so _odd _about that, Mufasa?"

It was odd because of the quiet which hung between them, something which had been absent in their relationship for a long time. Again, he wasn't sure what this signaled: either it was to be seen as a harbinger of peace or a symbol of just how distant they were from one another.

"It's not odd, it's just that after all... that you..." The golden lion swallowed, deciding not to finish that thought.

Scar's eyes narrowed tetchily and he turned away, bothered by his words but also by the seed of truth he knew to be buried in them.

"If you truly loathe me _that _much, Mufasa, why did you even bother to save me? _You _were in control, might I remind you..."

The golden lion wanted to rebuke him for that, to tell him that he didn't feel that way towards him, though he found that he couldn't. Not because of hatred, but because of contempt—for Mufasa held a disdain towards Scar's actions that he could barely hide. In the end, though, he had stuck to the promise he'd made himself in the wake of Sarabi's death: that no matter the risk or consequences, he would bring his brother back to him. For after everything, he found that being permanently alone because of his guilt and his lack of effort would be a burden he wouldn't be able to shoulder.

He chose his words carefully.

"I miss how we once were, I miss doing this..." Scar looked up at him, his gaze vaguely critical and yet interested, "but I don't miss risking everything to keep us together."

The dark lion looked sourly at the ground. There was a _reason _why they never did things. For just one of many examples, he remembered when he was stuck in Pride Rock's den for nearly a month due to poaching, how his father had strictly enforced it instead of shaming him and telling the pride the truth. How Mufasa had found him and tried to cheer him up with the promise of a hunting trip, once he was free to go outside again and the older brother was no longer busy with his father.

Just a little hunt, he'd told him.

Of course, he'd conveniently forgotten to tell him about how he and Sarabi had been seeing each other, or even that she was coming, and had _purposefully_—at least, Scar was always convinced it was on purpose—taken him out to do something he hated. Of course, he also subjected him to a whole host of other things which ultimately ended up in... well, in disasters he would rather not remember.

He'd vowed from that day not to let the incident repeat itself.

As for what they were doing now, however, that was nothing special. Scar needed Mufasa in order to get out of the tree and into the grass... as much as he hated being dependent, that was something he could not avoid for now. If the golden lion chose to attribute some lovely subtext to it, then fine, but that was not necessarily the way he saw things.

"Mufasa, you know perfectly well that I risked more than you ever did."

"Did you?" Mufasa queried, his voice demanding. That comment had rubbed him the wrong way, as the role of older sibling and, ultimately, protector, fell to him. "You never let anything go—you got hurt a few times and never _once _did you forget about it. It was always _my _fault."

"Well, maybe that wouldn't have happened if you'd actually _looked _after me, like you were supposed to, instead of pushing me to the side at every opportunity."

"I didn't do that." Mufasa's eyes narrowed—he was trying to keep his calm, though there was a glint in his eyes which lay behind the obvious. It was just another example of his brother attempting and succeeding at being a pain in the neck. All his life he'd been trying to figure out why he acted the way he did, and even in light of recent events he wasn't sure if it was malice or something else entirely.

Perhaps that was what always bothered him about them. There was just so much he couldn't read from his brother's gaze...

"Yes, you did." His look was piercing, accusing... "You always forgot or broke your own promises—it didn't matter to you. You acted like I didn't exist."

Mufasa growled, quickly becoming defensive under Scar's calm, passive cruelty. He did care, very much so in fact, and to hear such an impudent, callous remark from his own sibling galled him. "You made it no easier for me—I don't remember you _once _looking out for anyone but yourself. You were Mother's second-born and I had to look after the both of us!"

"_Then maybe you should have done a better job of it!_" he replied angrily, standing up despite the fact that he could barely do so. His sharp teeth well displayed his rash frustration—emotions that he normally would have contained better if it weren't for his temper and the circumstances.

"Fine! Argue with me over this, you liar!" Mufasa got up in his turn, his sharp expression biting. "But you're making all this up—I did more for you than your blind eyes would ever admit."

"LOOK AT ME!" he silenced Mufasa with his cry, allowing him to see his buckling limbs, his horribly disfigured body through the grass between them... "Do I look _alright _to you, brother? _You're_ the one who's _blind! Don't you see t—"_

Mufasa roared, just about the only thing that would purchase a few seconds of time for him. All in a moment his face had changed: as much as he hadn't wanted to argue, this load of ass tripe that his brother was attempting to force on him had to stop at some point. Because Scar had succeeded in doing something only Scar could do consistently: he'd made Mufasa angry.

Scar remained silent as Mufasa was trying to catch his breath. The golden lion's stare was still intense, though his words were deadly in their quiet. If this went much farther, something bad was bound to happen, something that they would regret later...

"That was _all _your doing," Mufasa practically whispered, though he was loud enough to be clearly understood. He closed his eyes momentarily, remembering all the words, all the deeds, all the horrible events that had transpired in their wake. And he could not suppress his twinge of anger. "And if I _ever_ hear you pinning the blame for your own crimes on me again, I will _make your life a_ _living hell_."

His eyes opened, displaying a ferocity that dared his brother to contradict him again. But Scar, unfortunately, had long gone numb to the empty threats of Mufasa's wrath—there was a fearlessness and a stubborness there that would not be extinguished by a mere show of brawn, and he'd decided that, no matter what Mufasa said, he would not relent to being _intimidated _by him.

"You already have," he replied softly, though there was a hint of disgust behind the taut lips and the exposed teeth. "There's nothing more to say."

"Excuse me, pardon me, Sire. Am I interrupting something? This is very important—" Mufasa pricked slightly at the addition of another voice into the mix, though he didn't stop looking at the dark lion. This was between him and his brother.

"Not now, Zazu."

"Oh, no, _no. _Let the bird speak, Mufasa," Scar bared his fangs in a tacit expression of defiance, neither of them looking at the avian who had landed a few feet away from them. "Nothing's been interrupted. Just another moral _tirade_."

"_Well_, the way _I _see your situation, _Prince _Scar," he accented nearly every other word in a show of barely-bridled contempt: a bitter emotion the bird had always had towards him, but was now only exacerbated unbearably. "... You should be _grateful _that our _king_ is only _haranguing _you, not _hanging _you for your _despicable _show of—"

"Zazu, still your tongue," Mufasa interjected sharply, still focused on his brother. This was between the two of them, and he didn't want anyone else to embroil themselves in their problems. Especially not a loose-lipped gossip like Zazu.

Finally, and at long last, Mufasa gave the bird the attention he desired. He said nothing, though the focus of his eyes on him encouraged him to speak.

"Sire, there is a lone rogue lioness at the northern border. She wanted to see you immediately about matters concerning the pride. She says she knows someone from the Pridelands."

The king sighed, still waiting for his anger to unwind. This was not something he wanted to deal with at the moment... in fact, all he really wanted to do was take a nap.

"Alright, Zazu, lead the way."

The bird took off and flew in a circle around Mufasa, waiting and obviously ready to go.

"Oh, I'd _love _to, Your Majesty. Follow me this way, she might still be over near the grove of trees at the border... although if I were her, I would have made sure to take a few steps back," he chuckled and continued his long-winded, somewhat pandering speech, "in case she's Usiku's or one of the roguish scum that always seems to want to—"

"Oh, and Zazu," Mufasa spoke up, not particularly interested in anything he was saying, "can you do one more thing for me?"

"Absolutely, sire." The bird stopped mid-flight and landed on the ground, perking up and giving him... well, whatever the bird equivalent of a smile was with his beak. "I'd be much honored."

"Before we leave, get Msaada and have him take Scar back to the tree."

The dark lion growled quietly from his place, resenting how Mufasa always treated him like a cub who couldn't do anything on his own. He didn't need someone to lead him a hundred feet back to the baobab tree. In a way, he couldn't tell which was more annoying—the brown-nosing bird who obviously hated his guts, or his big brother of a lion who never knew how to handle him.

"Ah," Zazu shuffled his wingtips together nonetheless, obviously deflated. "_Well_, sire, considering that this matter is of _such _pressing importance, I'd recommend maybe postponing that until we return...?"

"_Zazu_," the king rebutted him harshly, the bird shrinking back and instantly regretting his audacity. "You will do as I say. I have to take care of him later, and if he gets lost or hurt or even _scratched _because of your carelessness, I will not be happy with you!"

"Fine," the bird acquiesced with a shrug. "Don't see why you'd _bother_," he sent Scar a dirty look, "but alas, sire, it is not my place to question you. I shall do as you ask."

"Thank you." He turned to Scar, obviously trying not to let his anger show... though that was a test in itself, and his younger brother was far from letting their confrontation go anyways. Already a part of him knew that this same topic would be brought up again. "Listen, I have to leave. I'll be back later—"

"Fine, _sure_, whatever. I don't _care _about what you do as king, Mufasa. Just... leave."

Mufasa grunted, an acerbic sound which signaled his moving away. The grass bent and folded before the king, his golden body blending in with the recovering shoots of vegetation until, after a few moments, he disappeared.

He was gone. Scar was happy for that... though once he had left, and in the few moments he had completely to himself, there was something he couldn't deny.

And that was the smallest shred of guilt, coming back for another round with him.

* * *

><p>The lioness lay against a rock in the Outlands, gasping for air. Yet every breath she took seemed to stab her, as though her insides were on fire. Everything around her was wobbling and blurry; colors mixed and twirled around in a light haze, yet at the center of it all was the merciless sun. It shone in its zenith without pity, long beams of light conjuring up beads of sweat on the back of her neck. She spat on the ground, though her mouth was already almost dry and only a small gobbet of phlegm and blood graced the dry, cracked dirt with precious moisture.<p>

Already she felt faint, her pale coat sticky and bristling with hot rivulets of sweat. Moisture she could not afford to lose. The lioness moaned and took a few weak steps forward, still leaning heavily against the boulder for the support her legs could not give. Her eyes were barely open, and her mouth was also half-closed as it emitted a quiet plea only she would hear.

Or at least she thought that she would be the only one to hear it, for this place was barren and inhospitable. She would never have thought to encounter another lion here, of all places—even in the deserts she had come from, there was life if one knew where to look.

It was with understandable surprise that the lioness, dehydrated and losing strength fast, noticed another big cat sauntering over towards her with apparent confidence. Alas, it had been a long while since anybody had walked over to her like that, or even since anyone had walked over to her at all, but then she wasn't exactly in a position to do much. She was wandering aimlessly on what may well have been another pride's land, and as much as her mother had tried to teach her how to fight, there simply wasn't enough energy left for her to do so.

She couldn't last much longer on her own.

"You ain't from 'round these parts... are ya?"

A darker brown lioness stood in front of her, shifting eyes observing her closely and with seeming apathy to her distress. She let out another moan in response and was seemingly about to collapse to the ground.

"Hey, you're gonna listen ta me when I'm talkin' t' you, stranger," she drawled irritably, before motioning towards the pale lioness with her chin. "What's yer name?"

"I'm... I'm..." she squeezed her eyes shut against the sun and pressed her throbbing, slick-with-sweat temples against the boulder, marring the dry rock with trails of gleaming wetness which would no doubt evaporate in five minutes flat. "It's Hazizidi."

"Confound it, stranger, you got anything shorter 'an that?" Her look was demanding, yet vaguely concerned.

"Um... well... I guess..." she panted and let her tongue hang out, struggling to group any coherent thoughts into a sentence. It was a difficult endeavor, rather comparable to the local sky's attempt to gather any remaining beads of moisture into an actual cloud.

"I guess you could call me Hazi."

"Damn right you're hazy." The strange lioness furrowed her thick brows together, looking the traveler up and down. The pale lioness' limbs were muscled and her figure spoke of strength, no doubt borne from necessity... yet she did not appear to be very experienced or roguish enough.

Her eyes narrowed. Usiku was looking for specific traits... otherwise, the young lioness would be of no use to them.

"You can hunt, Hazi?" She paced around her calculatingly, examining the pale coat which reflected the harsh beams of sunlight.

"... I've been working on it. My mother taught me all she knew... and she was a good huntress for the pride."

"Pride?" The dark lioness' head snapped upwards, her own intense stare meeting Hazizidi's glazed, half-conscious eyes. If there was anything that could not be allowed into their fledgling pride, it was disloyalty. "Whaddya mean, _'pride'_? Why'd-ja leave?"

"New king." She panted simply. "Didn't want any of the old king's kin. We were exiled."

Her lioness acquaintance, if she could be called that, nodded curtly, preparing herself for one final question.

"Yer from the deserts." Hazizidi nodded. "... The Southern... or the _Eastern_...?"

"Southern!" The pale lioness blurted in a partially-understandable tone. "How could I be from the... from the... the... ohhh." Her head flopped back onto the rock and she collapsed, breathing heavily. For the first time, the dark lioness looked at her with a softer, more friendly gaze... as though she'd passed some sort of test.

"You thirsty, Hazi? Well, gosh, I'll be damned if you don't wanna drink 'a water. Here, I'll take you to our oasis; you can meet Usiku there. Oh, and the name's Apotee."

Apotee? Huh. She'd thought that was a male's name, but then, she wasn't in much position to ask. Nor was she in any position to reject their sudden acceptance of her into their pride. They must have been desperate—she didn't think there was much she could do for them. In the end, however, they had saved her life, and for that she was immensely grateful.

Using all her strength, she pulled her slick fur free from the boulder and staggered forwards, following Apotee through a narrow dirt track that led through the crusted earth and dry brambles to what she presumed was a small, almost-dried water hole.

The water there was stagnant and muddy, with mosquitos breeding in the brackish sludge. Algae peppered the murky surface, yet despite that fact it was obvious that many other animals had trampled flat the mud at the water's edge in order to come and drink from the... puddle. If it wasn't so small, it probably would have been classified as a bog.

Nonetheless, Hazizidi practically threw herself into it, relieved at the presence of any water, running or otherwise. She slurped noisily, her face and paws gleaming with sweat, blood, dirt, and now caked mud and old collected rainwater. Already she felt better.

All she could think about, however, was drinking—she hardly noticed the others coming up to her. It wasn't until she'd had her fill that she'd backed up and practically collided with the darkest lioness she had ever seen.

Her fur was almost a midnight shade of black, she noted, with a strong build and the general look of a panther. Though her eyes were dark, they shone with a light which matched the chilling look her fangs provided.

Hazizidi wasn't sure what to do. At first she just breathed heavily, then she took a step backwards and finally bowed her head slightly in respect. This must have been Usiku—her coat fit her name, and the way the other lionesses deferred to her showed the newcomer that the darkest of them was their leader.

"H-h-hello. Thank you for your assistance. I'm—"

"—I know who you are," her elder stated coldly, harsh eyes betraying no emotion. "Hazizidi, yes?"

"Yes. I am."

Usiku chuckled, a dark sound which pulled back her lips and further exposed the deadly row of glistening teeth. She walked towards the lioness, the other members of the pride backing up quietly to give her room as their leader stalked closer.

Suddenly she leapt, her claws flashing by in just a moment. Hazizidi reflexively tried to pull her head back, frightened that the lioness was, for some reason, attempting to kill her. She'd thought she'd dodged the blow when the dagger-like nails had swept through the rim of her ear, though when the older lioness had withdrawn, she looked pleased. Hazizidi bristled instinctively with fright, though it wasn't necessary.

"Welcome; you are now a part of this pride. Take a glimpse at your pridesisters." Usiku motioned towards the collected group, a scraggly bunch no more than fifteen strong. But as she looked at them, she realized that all of them had that same cut in the side of their right ear. As the blood trickled almost painlessly down the side of her face, she realized what this was.

Initiation.

"But I..." she looked around nervously. "I don't think I could be of any use to you. I'm a desert lioness, and this place is barre—"

"Hush! Do not ask questions!" She whirled around and fixed the smaller lioness with her beady eyes. "I'll tell you who did this to us... have you ever heard of the king Mufasa?"

The dark lioness growled deeply, and several others spit globs of saliva which showered the parched earth. Hazizidi had never heard of Mufasa, nor of his reputation: such news did not easily penetrate past the jungle and into the Southern Deserts, for few rogues made the journey from the Pridelands—she herself had wandered around the Western Wastelands, bypassing his pride and thus wandering accidently into Usiku's realm. As far as they were concerned, she was young clay to be freely molded to their will.

Unknowing of this or of his kingdom, she shook her head.

"He's an evil tyrant down to the south. Much like in your pride... he claimed to be our leader, and then he _exiled_ each and every last one of us!" She paused, seething, and let her words sink in, looking to the younger lioness to gauge her reaction.

"... I'm sorry about that." Hazizidi dipped her head apologetically. "I've been there. But I don't think there's much I can do to help—"

"And there's where you're wrong." The dark lioness used her paw to lift the young female's head up, her claws softly raking the underside of her chin. "I've done you a favor, now. I've accepted you into this pride. I saved your life."

She chuckled, her grin twisted and the sharp lines of her face casting shadows in the sun. Yet these could not be seen, for already she was so dark... she was a living shadow as it was, and there was no telling just how far she'd go.

"... And all I ask, dear, is _one _thing in return for me..."

* * *

><p><em>So yeah, Usiku is definitely up to something again! And on another note... well, I've been trying to avoid overplaying Mufasa and Scar, since I want it to be kind of special when they interact. But they still have some problems... Scar is stubborn and frustrated and Mufasa is a little too... hmm, ambivalent? <em>

_Two new minor OCs:_

_Hazizidi - "stray"_

_Apotee - "err"_

_As I said, there's a lot of loose ends to expound on and things to cover. So if it seems out of place, just let me know... as of now, I'm just trying to put my best foot forward and hope it all flows alright. Everything will be tied up in time._

~ Todos tengan un buen tarde/noche/etc...

Twin :)


	35. The Lost and Forgotten

_**A/N:**_

_Alright, I have some super big news this chapter, so... where to begin? _

_Well, first things first - you've probably noticed by now, but... Trampled has a new cover! Yep. It's easily ten times better than the old one (which was boring and entailed, like, 15 minutes of doodling and fiddling on MS Paint after the cover feature was introduced). Now you can see what I did instead of writing Thursday night/Friday morning. I believe it took me a whole three hours to do the photomanip - making screenshots on Youtube, putting pics together and painting and editing on dA muro, and then finally bringing it to the photo editor here for some last-minute brightness and effects before putting it up at about 1:30 AM. I'm super stoked about it. Tell me how you like it... if you enjoy it, Thus Always may be next (I already beefed up my avatar)._

_Secondly, SPELL CHECK IS BACK! YEAH. I don't know why it took me so long, but I finally got tired and figured out how to just set it to English once and for all for the whole document. Lesson learned - don't set sentences as other languages. Ever. So now you guys don't have to suffer through being editors as well as readers (if you even spotted any errors or anything in the first place). And it's not like anyone will really notice, but..._

_I also decided to go through the past five chapters (and beyond) to clean that up. Nothing too important - the number of changes I made were minor and I could probably count their number on my fingers (ie, finishing Mufasa's unfinished sentence from Chapter 29, minor typos, Banzai's botched Spanish dialogue from like... fifteen chapters ago...) but now everything should be nice and corrected. Sorry I took so long._

_Reviews._

**_pokeking95: _**_Yep! Like I said, I'd really like to wrap up this fic soon, since I've never finished a story and this one has by far the best chance at it right now. xP And I'm trying not to add too many OCs... I understand that many more will make it too hard to follow (Apotee was pure filler, and the wild dog duo probably won't be coming back). Most of the characters in the story have already been introduced. Hope you still enjoy it. :) Wow, that sounds intense. You did high school in Texas, right? Because we have few native speakers up in Washington (lots here in Nevada, though), so I dunno... And I don't judge you for that... I'd probably feel the same way. Planning on AP Spanish Lang after IV. :D_

_In response to your other question: I'm not _actually _a pegasister, since I've never seen a full episode of the show (although knowing me, I might like it. lol). But I have several friends who are bronies and I could probably name the "mane seven" off the top of my head, so... no worries. lol_

_PS I really think you should try writing a fic. :) You seem like you're smart and you'd probably do just fine. And besides, if you saw my writing from just two years ago (when I started my first real original fiction), I doubt you'd be of the same persuasion. lol_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Not sure you're out of the woods yet... or ever, really. xD lol And is it strange that the word idyllic came to my mind about it too? Such a shame that they had to ruin it. ;_; Anyways, those are some really good questions about Scar's character. I think a lot of this fic is meant for people to really rethink what they know about Scar and also Mufasa. Sometimes good people can do bad things and vice versa and etc. Plus there's a lot of things we just... don't know. You know? xD Thanks for the review. _

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Yeah, I take Scar's side a lot and I don't think of him as pure evil. I think there's a reason for the way he acts, but at the same time so many people are like "blehblehbleh it's not fair, he was abused as a child by his father and blehblehbleh". Again, we don't really *_know*. _And while I think that not all of it was his fault, necessarily, he still does have responsibility for his actions and has a lot to answer for. And I think you meant Usiku there - Zira hasn't reappeared yet. x) lol_

**_DarthRushy: _**_I feel really bad whenever someone brings that up. :/ I kind of wanted her back in and should have made that happen... either I forgot or it was just too little, too late. She might make a cameo or a small appearance, but there isn't a lot of room to make significant changes in the plot anymore. Sorry. I promise she will play a bigger role in the next installment._

_ **mom: **Kind of wrote that last minute, but... glad you liked it. x) Thanks for the review... oh, and nice new avatar. I think I look good in that picture. lol_

**_Night-Waker: _**_I see you got an account now! Thanks for the fantastic faves and follows, friend. ;) (Aaah, alliteration!) I agree, there's no telling just how far people will take stuff. If I actually see that bumper sticker, I will have shot myself in the foot. lol And thanks... I (as well as many other people) think it'd actually be really cool if Mufasa and Scar's childhood were made into a movie. xP Oh, and Scar's right here... he says thanks for the hug (he really needs it, whether he wants to admit it or not xD). Nice guess at her identity - she's in this chapter._

**_Danielle: _**_Thanks for reading everything! Enjoy. :)_

**_TheTrueJuliet: _**_Already responded via PM (I mean, it was practically begging me to). That's a looooong review there. lol_

_Now on with the story._

* * *

><p>Mufasa was walking along the center of his kingdom, somewhat quiescent as his paws tread through the trembling blankets of grass which coated the sun-baked, scraggly terrain before him. Much of the unexpected moisture of the past few days had already been absorbed to fill the cracks in the previously parched soil, or left in muddy brown puddles to slowly evaporate over the coming days. There was enough water to tide everyone over until the next rainstorm, which, judging by the presence of many thick, dark clouds on the horizon, would not be too far away. Already the rivers were running swiftly, filling their beds to repletion as they graciously received the gift of water and rebirth, which the land had not seen in some time.<p>

There was supposed to have been a drought, though the unpredictable weather had rendered it just a memory. He walked along slowly, pleased with how the kingdom seemed to be faring. Brightly colored salamanders slunk in the pools, their slippery skins gleaming with mucus and moisture. Tawny gazelles browsed at the leaves and tender young grasses, their large, dark eyes and flicking ears betraying alertness as he passed them by. The sound of his paw clacking against a stray piece of stone sent the closest of them flying away on fleet feet towards the larger group, who eyed him warily. A lizard too was startled by the noise, its green form darting in a zigzag ahead of the king's golden paws, which tread so soft and steadfast as he surveyed the verdant surroundings of home.

Yet as caught up as he was in the reconnaissance of his lovely territory, he had a place to be, and he did not let the sights of the land distract him too much. He continuously kept part of his attention on the young lioness flanking him, who was studying the herds with a barely-bridled and urgent interest. She looked lean and somewhat hungry, and her muscles had atrophied from the strain of, presumably, living alone and exiled by her pride with her recently-deceased mother in the deserts, which barely provided for the both of them. Now she had had to find a home amongst the prides, for she was no longer sure she could provide for herself.

At least, she had said as such. He wasn't quite certain that he believed all that she told him—her reasoning was nebulous at best, and mendacious at worst. Something about her seemed off, distant... She gazed at the fields indolently, seemingly careless as to where she was walking.

He wasn't sure what to make of the female. In the past, he probably would have accepted her under the sole condition that he and the pride be allowed to keep an eye on her, no questions asked. But ever since the incident, he'd found it so hard to trust anyone, regardless of circumstances. Already he had his misgivings, though whether they were misplaced or whether he was righteous in his fears, he didn't know. The band of loyal lionesses he had seemed like enough to him, although a little voice in the back of his mind told him that he would need all the followers he could get in order to replenish the pride's numbers.

In the end, her obvious youth and inexperience had helped to win him over. Mostly, though, he was curious about the message she brought. For she believed that an old friend of hers was living in the Pridelands, and if that was the case—he would find out soon if it was—then that trust between one of his lionesses and this rogue would be enough to cement her as at least a temporary member of the pride.

If it wasn't, however, he would likely end up chasing her off. He didn't tell her as much, though she didn't look like she'd be a particularly helpful asset.

"Where did you say you were from, again?" He attempted to start conversation, the towering beacon of Pride Rock creeping closer with every footstep.

"The Eastern Deserts, my liege."

"Please, just Mufasa," the golden lion corrected out of instinct, nose crinkling in confusion. He'd been quite sure that their most prominent pride had been all but wiped out some years ago. No one had shown up from there in a very long time, at least to his knowledge. "... The Eastern Deserts...? An odd place of origin."

"Yes, I know. But there are many tribes there. It's very beautiful."

"So I've heard," he replied shortly, struggling to comprehend how the lions and lionesses could thrive in such a harsh, bare environment. There was little in the way of water, save for the oases—and even those were small in comparison to the magnificent waterfalls and stunning pools which glimmered, plentiful, across the sunlit plains he knew. Not to mention the whole land was coated in blazing hot grains of pelting sand... "Nonetheless, I do not believe my people would flourish there. I respect the hardiness of the Desert Prides."

"Thank you, Mufasa." She tilted her head, gratefully receiving his compliment. Yet unbeknownst to her, the lion's momentarily-shaded face had briefly cast a wrought expression, somewhat akin to a smirk. For in the end, toughness was not the only thing the lions of the deserts were known for: some of the bands that roamed there were capable of utter ruthlessness. Death and war and bloodshed were a part of life, and even during times of peace, contacts between lions of differing tribes were scarce and often hostile.

"Well," he interjected finally, reaching the point where the grasses receded and made way for Pride Rock, an erratic which towered like a sleeping giant over the rest of the plains. Spots of darkness pocked its surface and marked the cool caves where food was kept and lionesses napped when it was too hot for sunbathing. Yet these were empty today, for already most of Pride Rock's remaining members were aggregated in the short, trampled stalks of yellow-brown grass which matched the hue of their pelts. They stood softly, collectively studying their monarch with many sets of eyes. His return had been anticipated, likely because his presence seemed to become more and more sporadic with each passing day. "Here we are."

He cleared his throat softly, as though to get their attention, though that was needless.

"Good morning to all of you," he nodded to several of the lionesses closest to him, acknowledging their attention. "Hello Maxi. Sarafina." He looked past their stoic, serious faces, craning his neck to see the faintest bit of movement at the back of the pride: the stalking of a lioness who was uncharacteristically lumbering behind most of her pridesisters.

"Good to see you, Nyota."

She stopped as her name was spoken.

"Who's the lioness, Mufasa?" A darker lioness piped up from the center of the group.

"Yeah, and why's she have that notch in the right side of her ear? That looks suspicious…"

"It was a hunting accident," the lioness in question smiled graciously, eyes alight with a twinkle. "Err… it turns out that… well, zebra have _sharp…_ teeth." She chuckled lamely, her flat introduction and meager first impression instantly discrediting herself in the eyes of half of the lionesses, who merely shared dubious expressions—furrowed brows and half-bared teeth instantly accompanied their inadvertent groans of displeasure.

"Well," Mufasa commented, trying to control the situation despite the fact that his acceptance of her was mostly for the sake of politeness. "She's still learning as a huntress, but this _fine_ young lioness is from the _Eastern Deserts_. Toughness is in her blood."

Half of the lionesses pricked their ears in interest and confusion—the others merely curled their lips in contempt and disgust. One of them did neither, merely staring off into the horizon as though caught in her own world.

"King Mufasa, _please_," one dubious lioness lent her voice to his ears, "you don't _seriously _believe that rotting pile of tripe, do you? With all due respect, the Eastern Pride was wiped out _years _ago."

"Yeah! She's a fake! Throw her out into the wilderness!"

Several of them agreed with this, angry faces borne out of nowhere and adding to the clamor. It was obvious that he wasn't the only one armed with distrust towards the lioness. He looked at her evenly, noticing traces of fear subtly showing as sweat through her demeanor. The king could hear her teeth uneasily grind together—alas, something about her looked desperate, as though she needed some sort of saving grace.

"Please, Sire, you can't let me go. I have nothing else I can do."

"That's a lie! A desert lioness wouldn't need a pride!" Most of them appeared to shout in agreement, though one lone lioness in the group was stung deeply at that statement. She tried to keep her eyes averted, away from the bellicose cries of the congregation as they hurled out their harsh judgment. Mufasa looked remorseful, caught between the young foreigner's pleading stare and the overwhelming rule of his subjects and friends.

He hated being forced to decisions like this, but there was no room for his choices to be swayed merely by sentimentality. She set him on edge, and apparently did the same to the others—there was no margin left for error. He could not endanger his pride again.

"I'm sorry, Malaika," she flinched in confusion, as though not used to being called that. Yet in the back of the crowd, two ears pricked… just as Usiku had predicted. "But I can't let you stay here."

She let out a small, unconscious noise of surprise, mouth slightly agape. But in that moment, her eyes met with those of the only lioness still silent. They locked in their gazes, both the pale lionesses' fur ruffling in the wind as the foreigner noticed the visible shock and distress which lay in the young female's stare. And then the other lioness averted her attention away, staring at the ground by her foreleg with hazy, half-shaded pupils as she remained sitting behind the rest.

That attempt at peace did not last for long, for her focus snapped upwards with a beckon of her name.

"…_Nyota_!"

* * *

><p>It was a sunny day in the desert, the whole land being washed in a soft yellow light from above. The occasional flocks of birds flew overhead, lighting up the land with their cheery calls and darkening the sky with their shady silhouettes. Everything was warm, and peaceful, with a gentle summer breeze wafting through the parched land.<p>

It was a pleasant, idyllic day; perhaps that's why the weeping and the chaos seemed so out of place: such tragedy was only supposed to happen on dark and cloudy days, when the aura in the air was already eerily foreboding. These things weren't supposed to happen under a veil of perfect, unmarred tranquility. Life wasn't supposed to just continue on like nothing had ever happened.

Because, to her, life had all but stopped from the moment she happened upon the remains...

She'd warned her father immediately, her and Mlinda. No one had believed her at first—the chances of making such a discovery in the midst of the shifting dunes had to have been about one in a million. She felt like she would have had just as good a chance at finding them if she'd started counting all the grains of sand in the desert. She'd beaten the odds, yet she did not feel any better for it.

_Tufani. Chamchela. Nyikani. _

Her mind reeled as she struggled to recount the names. The appellations of lions who had once lived and breathed, but had been mercilessly slaughtered. Everything was upside-down, inside-out… her surroundings had toppled over, her mind had folded in and withdrawn into itself. All she could do was sit and stare listlessly into the horizon: the lionesses gathered around offered no support. They were more concerned about digging up the rest of the remains, their sandy bodies clawing at the dust in order to uncover more sights she never wanted to behold. Already some were quipping about vengeance.

She never asked for this. She never asked for _any _of this.

The princess leaned heavily on Mlinda, weeping and sobbing and letting loose a ravaging whirlwind of tears into his coarse coat. The only alternative was collapsing to the ground.

_Faragha. Kupoteza._

The two of them were found and excavated, bodies mostly rotted under the thick covering of sand. She mouthed the words silently, a last tribute to the lost and forgotten, but she did not dare to look at them: she'd learned that lesson after seeing the rest of Kuachwa's corpse unearthed. The cadaver was already halfway eaten away by vultures and maggots, leaving mostly bleached bones and blood-encrusted fur. His eyes were empty, staring at the sun and never blinking, and other mostly-decomposed parts lay around, homogenous and unidentifiable.

… _Kuachwa…_

The image would scar her, likely forever. Behind her was piled an indistinct mass of meat and bone and flesh and fur, all of lions she had once known but who were now bereft of breath and left to rot after their cruel slaughter.

It wasn't fair. _None _of this was fair. It was true, they hadn't come back in a long time, but she always thought maybe they'd gotten lost. That they'd stumbled and forgotten the way home… yet now she saw the truth for what it was. Bitter.

What bothered her most, however, was that none of the other lionesses seemed to be in much distress. They all bit back their tears—her mother especially tried to retain her regal pose, though the effort with which she did that showed in her weary expression. The others merely looked upon the remains—the dead bodies of their sons, brothers, friends, mates, and even fathers—and sorely gazed at the horizon, trying to blot it from their minds.

Such was life, they said. They'd been prepared for this risk from the beginning. These things were to be expected. The only thing that could be done was to give them a proper burial and avenge their deaths if they could find those responsible. After that, they would move on with their lives and leave the past behind. But the princess would not forget.

She could never forget. Especially not now, as one question still burned like a flickering candle in her wavering mind.

_Where is Kuki?_

The little lioness finally caught her breath and looked behind her, dreading the sight of the corpse she knew was coming. All six of his companions had been found—it was only a matter of time before they dragged Kukosa's limp and lifeless form to light. She watched with latent horror as the lionesses continued digging in and around area, adding to the hole which had hid so many bodies for so long…

Yet there was nothing.

"Mlinda…" she whispered to the dog sitting abut to her, voice quavering… "where's my brother? Did they… find him… yet?"

He stared for a moment, sharp eyes narrowing. Yet it was hard to tell, even for him. The looks and scents of each individual lion had blurred together: even he could not tell if Kukosa lay hidden and dormant in the heap, or perhaps in the sand below.

"I don't know."

The lionesses continued to dig, but they could only go so far. It didn't take long for several of them to come up, panting and sweaty, and address the king, who had been supervising the whole operation with as much self-control as he could muster.

"We found six of them, Majesty."

They said no more, though to the king—who had had personal knowledge of the seven-member hunting party—their message was tacit: one of them was missing.

"And the seventh?"

One of them wiped their brows with a paw, the princess watching in both horror and hope as she announced the news.

"We couldn't find Kukosa…" a pause formed in the air, and then a usual dose of realism was added to the situation. "He probably died elsewhere. I doubt we'll find him."

She didn't quite understand what that meant; all her foggy mind knew was that 'Kukosa' and 'dead' were never meant to be in the same sentence. At least, not until they both were old and grey and had lived full lives, happy and ready to leave for their next ones…

"Father…" she spoke up suddenly, shyly... "Father… we have to find him. We have to find Kuki."

"He's _gone_, cub. Death happens in life." The lioness who had spoken sighed derisively towards the bleary-eyed princess, who was unused to such a response and was stung deeply by her brusqueness. Already the pride's nerves were worn and frayed—the bad news had been taxing, even if they refused to show it, and searching for the bodies under the hot sun had used up a lot of energy. If finding those six lions had been a one-in-a-million chance, then finding the seventh had to have been a one-in-a-billion.

Kukosa was missing. And unless he was still alive, there was almost no chance of them ever being reunited. They all seemed to understand this. All of them, at least, except for the princess. She spoke up again, not ready to give up.

"Father… Father, _please_." She gave him a pleading stare, undeterred. "We have to look for h—"

"—_Please_, my daughter, not now." He averted his gaze and looked at the ground, soft brown mane flapping in the breeze. His queen was barely able to hold back the moisture in her teal eyes as they both considered the loss of their eldest son. The one they'd raised from birth, cared for lovingly for many moons, taught to hunt and be a prince. The one who had served as a loving brother for his siblings… only for him to be snatched from all of them when he was just on the verge of becoming an adult. All because of a senseless act of violence.

The pride hung their heads in respect, the princess reluctantly included. She almost couldn't believe that they'd given up already. Though she knew, somewhere deep in her heart, that her brother was lost forever, her heart still clutched on to its little seed of hope—something which would never leave her. Until she saw him, dead or alive, for herself, she would keep searching.

"Mlinda," she whispered, getting the solemn dog's attention. "Mlinda, do you think he's still alive out there?"

He looked at her, eyes glimmering with sadness. He highly doubted it. Yet he wasn't sure how or if he should break the news. A part of him wanted to shield her, to protect her from the truth, no matter how much it would hurt. But another side of him didn't want to feed her idle lies, no matter how innocuous they seemed. She looked up to him, and he couldn't bear to do that to her.

"Mlinda…"

"I'm sorry, mate." He paused, scanning the horizon with his eyes. "But I just don't know."

She nuzzled her face into his leg, trying not to let the tears sting too much inside. He was so warm, his coat was so soft… her support didn't move, it didn't brush her away. The dog simply stood there and braced her, tall and comforting. Just like Kuki would have…

"You've been a good friend to me, Mlinda. Like Kuki was." She continued to lean against him, clutching his leg with her little paws. "But I just… I just… _I want my brother back_!" Her lower lip curled into a pouty expression, briefly visible before she dug her face into his fur and just sobbed. Part of his coat stood on end, clumped and bristly with the dampness.

It was a sad situation, but he had to be strong for her and keep his own emotions in check. He hated seeing her like this, weeping with the depression and the tragedy brought about by fate. Always she had been so happy, so cheerful… he couldn't afford to lose her now. Gently, and with much care, he drew her head away from his leg so that she could look him in eye and see his serious expression.

"I know you do, my little chap. I could never 'ope or wish t' replace your brother." He licked away the tears on her cheeks tenderly, trying to cheer her up. "But you _must_ listen to me, now: don't let what the others say bring you down e'en a mite—you 'ave to believe, and 'ope, no matter what, and right find your own way. Do you 'ear me?"

"What do you mean?" she looked up at him, still trying to compose herself. "Do you mean he's still alive?"

He shook his head, though his response was not negative. "He's alive for as long as you keep 'im alive." The dog planted a dark paw on her chest. "As long as you still 'ave memory of 'im, 'e will always be there for you… Promise me, princess. Promise me you'll remember 'im."

"Always." She breathed softly and dried her teary eyes, looking up at the bright sky above. A rustle of wind came in from the east, ruffling her softly… rather like an affectionate touch from the one she missed so much. He was safe in the sky, with the moon… and he would be watching over her. Protecting her. Just like he'd done before…

"_I'll always remember you, Kuki_."

* * *

><p><em>:( That was a little depressing, at least in my mind. But I wrote it, so... *will not subject passage to own opinion* Names of all the desert lions who died this chapter: Tufani (storm), Chamchela (whirlwind), Nyikani (wilderness), Faragha (solitary), Kupoteza (loss), Kuachwa (which still means abandonment), and... Kukosa?<em>

_What do you think happened to dear old Kuki?_

_(Oh, and Malaika means angel... she's Hazi from last chapter, in case you didn't figure that out. Really, I'm not trying to smother you with OCs, I promise xD)._

_Well, in any case, Trampled reached 60 faves last night, and also hit 25k hits some time ago, so... thanks for that, I guess. Add some more reviews and we'll soon reach the milestone of 300 comments! :D_

_Todo el mundo es un teatro! Or stage, or whatever Shakespeare said. xP_

_Twin :)_


	36. Of Mice and Lions

_**A/N: **Well, as it happens, I wanted to have this out a little sooner. I don't think I did too bad, though as it stands now, it's Monday... and everyone hates Mondays, at least during school. Residents of the Southern Hemisphere, or indeed anyone who is not on break from school or work and has to deal with the Monday blues, get my condolences and a chapter to read._

_This one's only one scene. I was going to have another part with the hyenas, but this chapter's already over 5,000 words. All I will say is that you will get a little surprise that's been missing for a while. ;)_

_Reviews!_

**_Night-Waker: _**_lol. Rafiki giving Scar therapy about his problems... that's a funny image right there. And I agree. I would be ticked if Disney made it only to screw it up. -.- Anyways, is there any particular reason you got an account here? :p I know I read a few stories before joining the site (_Captive_ by **NinaRoja**, a few of the stories by **x-The Devil's Advocate-x**) and then started reviewing, but I mostly got mine for writing, since that's what I do. lol_

**_pokeking95: _**_I responded to this in a long PM already. Thank you for the feedback! ;o Hope we talk soon... *heads over to our thread*_

**_IronicSnap: _**_It sounds like you're drunk or something, Snappy__. xD But of course, as always, I appreciate your theories. They made me laugh, even if Scar being the princess is a little far-fetched... yet you never know! lol That could happen... it's just that there'd be a lot of time-traveling and gender-changing in that particular plotline. xP_

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Thanks! I really like the new cover, too. And it's okay, we all make mistakes... Px lol That's a good point, though... I think it's just that there's always some sort of plot or regicide attempt or something going on in the Pridelands, and showing people mercy means having their crazed selves attacking you later. I would recommend that they change to democracy. They have some serious internal problems. lol_

**_mom: _**_Not sure if I thought of Mlinda as slobbering... I thought of him as looking like a German Shephard (one of my favorite dog breeds) for some reason, though I'm 99% sure wild dogs look nothing like that. *shrug* lol_

**_Guest: _**_Give it a shot anyways. It may surprise you. ;)_

**_Danielle: _**_Thanks for the support! :)_

**_RippahGoneWolf: _**_Thank you very much! Yes, I do put a lot of work into my writing, and I'm glad people have noticed. ;) I think I'll have to check out that fic sometime, since it sounds like something I'd really like. Glad you gave my story a chance. :p_

**_TheBreekachu: _**_You know, it means so much to hear people say that. :) I'm glad I could be an inspiration to you. And no worries about the phone thing... I type on my iPod sometimes and Autocorrect always tries to mangle it horribly! Px_

_And speaking of **NinaRoja **(who I shall dub the __Little Red Riding Hood, due to her username's similar Spanish meaning)... she was anticipated to join us in a review this chapter. Unfortunately, she is currently lost in the forest. _

_There's no rush, Nina! Just don't get eaten by any grandmotherly wolves on your way here. ;)_

_Read on, folks._

* * *

><p>Scar paced about in the dark of the twilight, his body casting long shadows on the edge of the flat savanna. He wasn't supposed to be out this late: in fact, according to those around him, he wasn't supposed to be out at all, ever. He was still recovering, and moving around was off-limits. But to hell with rules, he'd never been one to follow them: as far as he was concerned, it was just a trick they used to keep him locked up forever… and he couldn't <em>stand <em>the thought of Mufasa controlling him to such a degree. He needed to abscond for some fresh air, he needed to go on his little escapade.

Alas, there was a grain of truth in what they said, but he chose to ignore it. He shut out the pain that shot up as he limped around, his damaged hind limb dragging across the dirt. It hurt… a lot. The festering bite mark seemed to be getting worse, and the bandage had already begun to flop around, halfway uncovering the wound to the unsterile elements. In fact, many of the carefully wrapped leaves had fallen or stripped away, revealing sore, pink flesh and grisly lacerations. But he was angry, and when he was angry, he didn't give a _damn _about consequences.

_Always treating me like a child,_ he thought with frustration. _Always controlling, always demanding…_

And it wasn't just now, either—no, Mufasa couldn't ever keep his grubby, golden paws off. He thought back to their argument… just another inane string of complaints, the same old thoughts being flung at each other like a catapult shooting rocks over a wall and hoping to do damage by hitting a stronghold that wasn't visible and may as well have been in a different nation. They were nothing alike—emotionally, they were spread in completely opposite directions altogether. Nothing changed, namely because Mufasa didn't _listen _and Scar himself wasn't going to defer to the tried-and-untrue tactic of force.

What rubbed him most was Mufasa's accusations of selfishness: claims that the dark lion only ever looked after himself. How untrue! He would have, if he could, but he was never allowed to concentrate on his own affairs alone… frankly, they would have been better off if he was. Mufasa never left him any room to be independent, and whenever the golden king shouldered himself with both their burdens, it collapsed into such a disarrayed mess that even his _revered _ancestors couldn't clean it up for them.

Kings of the Past. _Puh_.

Nonsense. All of it nonsense, totally storied rubbish that somehow got passed on through generations because of the acceptance of it by stupid, blindly obedient cubs like Mufasa and his—

_Snap._

Scar perked up instantly, teeth gritting in agitation. What _else _was out this late in the savanna…?

"Who is it?" His eyes narrowed instantly, green irises probing the still, silhouetted surroundings of the grass carpet enclosing him. The stalks rhythmically rustled back and forth, and then everything went silent…

It was probably some small, mischievous animal slinking and tunneling about. If he'd been closer to Pride Rock, he would have even thought it to be a lion cub. Nothing to be worried about. After several seconds he growled and shook his head, turning away and, regretfully, showing his back towards the noise.

He instantly recognized his mistake. Scar stopped instinctively and suddenly stiffened, hackles reflexively spiked and bristling around his narrow scapulae… yet he wasn't able to react fast enough to avoid being blindsided.

"ERRRRM-_FFFFT_!"

His train of thought and, indeed, his entire sojourn were derailed swiftly and remorselessly, the world and its myriad of soft, sunset hues hurtling around him in several different directions as he was pulled to the ground by a powerful and unseen force. He hit the ground with a thud, letting a sharp and acute cry of pain escape in his confusion. Instantly his mask of anger had turned to one of gripping fear, a cloud of dust from his body's impact serving to further obscure the sight of the creature before him.

And when it finally cleared and revealed his attacker, the vision did nothing to stifle his frightened struggles. A thick profile appeared and blocked out his view of a fading azure sky, and the rich, subdued-gold coat complemented dark locks which cascaded lightly down the neck and chest like a waterfall.

The dark lion tensed up, heart beginning to race in sudden realization. For standing atop him was a broad, muscular individual… already the stranger's paws were digging into the bases of Scar's shoulders with a latent ferocity, and this did nothing to soothe the uneasy feeling creeping around in his gut.

He tried to roar desperately for help, though the male above him seemed to anticipate this and quickly stifled his call with a paw to the windpipe. A fierce growl racked the throat of the younger, golden lion—a sound which pierced through the elder's gossamer-thin veil of composure. He quivered, trying to dam back his roiling, building terror.

The stranger showed his teeth. Once his victim's cry had been effectively choked, he released him, the latter taking a dazed gasp for air and inadvertently letting out a plea he'd heard many times before...

"Oh, s_pirits help me_."

The attacker's face was humorless, his feature pinching into a bitter expression before a twinge of a smirk teased the edge of his lips.

"Odd choice of last words," he grunted, his husky voice more like a bellow than an effective mode of speech. His claws unsheathed slowly, and the dark lion felt his aggressor's sharp points delicately tracing a path from the corner of his jaw before following a soft line down across his throat…

"What are you doing?" he queried fretfully, though in truth, the answer was obvious… "You wouldn't _kill _me, would you?"

"Why shouldn't I?" He laughed brusquely, fangs exposed in a ferocious grimace. "Mother told me to spy on Mufasa… but you'll be a little bonus. The weakling younger brother."

He raised a paw threateningly, the razor edges of his vicious claws glinting white in the last rays of orange sunlight. The lion was about five seconds away from swiping them across his victim, ready to slice off the crow-black mane and sever his pulsating jugular… but he was distracted again.

"Oh, but you can't kill me like _that_. _Tsk, tsk_. Put those oversized hunting knives aside."

His brow furrowed. Unusual for a victim to show such audacity in telling him _how _to kill. His mother had been quite clear that he was not to be noticed… Scar could not live, or he would tell his brother about the intrusion. Leaving him alive was not an option at this point.

But his momentary doubt was more than enough to encourage the lion to continue.

"Why, who is this mother of yours? Telling you to attack random lions like that? It's so uncouth, really."

The golden lion looked irritated by his cheeky, impudent behavior. A scowl formed on his face, dripping with contempt and malice. "Don't play that with me. You're Prince Scar. A known _liar _and a traitor."

"Liar? Traitor? Why, what led you to such a conclusion? That would be impolite, I'm afraid." He cocked his eyebrow and chuckled, feigning his innocence. "This 'Scar', though… well, if he is as you say, then he must be quite dangerous. Yet I think I'd remember a name as _shameful _as that."

"_But_…" Scar paused, looking up at his captor with glimmering eyes. "You _are _looking to take the throne with this, are you not? Because if you are, I'll have you know that an upstart king like you must _follow the rules_."

His voice was a deadly, knowing whisper. It tickled the humid air, the golden lion's brows again knitting together in thought and confusion. What, exactly, did he mean? And why did he sound so urgent?

"_What _rules?"

"Those of the Great Kings of the Past, _of course_." His lips twisted slightly, countenance betraying close study as he carefully perceived—and enjoyed—the other lion's blank reaction. As unlikely as it was, his plan was working. "You _have _heard of them, no?"

The other lion bleakly shook his head, still thinking.

"Hmm, well… questionable parenting, indeed."

"Why should I care about some ghost story?" He shot back suddenly, skepticism woven into his countenance. It was a haunting expression, one which worried the old lion…

"_Because! _These are no mere ghost stories, now. One must prove himself as a king worthy to inherit the throne! Once his favor is gone, well, the heavens will find someone better and the kingdom will be lost, I'm afraid…"

An oleaginous smile crept across his maw in an attempt at reassurance, the softly-upturned corners of his mouth imparting to his grin a sickeningly, almost cloyingly sincere expression. The other lion turned away in disgusted contempt.

"So… what the hell are you say—"

"You have to act properly. Like a good, just ruler would. And I'll have you know that the spirits _frown _upon murder, my boy." And then there was an imitative frown on his own face, a pout so prying and greasy and manipulative… the young lion tensed, claws scraping the sparse fur on his captive's shoulders and chafing raw the thin cover of flesh there.

"I see what you're doing. You're trying to get me to _spare _your weaseling little life. Don't think it'll work."

"Now, now. I never said you couldn't _kill _me, heh." He spouted, attempting to buy himself more time despite the promising and fateful nature of that statement. "You just… can't kill me in such a _beastly _way. Every drop of blood spilled for the crown will amount to a deluge on our people, and we _can't _have that, as a _smart _individual like you would know..."

The golden lion again looked unsure of what Scar was trying to tell him, veering off and staring into the dark, looming clouds with a thin-lined smirk crossing his distant visage.

"… That doesn't sound so bad."

"Oh, it will when the torrent comes. It will when the rivers overflow their banks and flood the plains and _kill _all the animals you rely on. The Kings control your fate, you see."

"So what do I do, _wise sage_?" He queried, voice dripping with malicious sarcasm. Yet the lion's response was annoyingly calm and authoritative.

"Perform the ritual. Show the kings that you will be a pious king... Go on, and unleash your mightiest roar."

He studied the golden lion with those piercing green eyes, unsettling him to the utmost extent. This routine of reconnaissance and living in the wilderness hadn't lasted long, and though he did not doubt whatever masterminded plan his vengeful mother had conjured up from the depths of her imagination, he in his inexperience still had his qualms. After all… she had taken this into account, right? They hadn't even known Scar was still alive—all of what he was doing was ad lib. And most importantly… what if what he said _did _have some truth in it? What if a higher power was… watching him?

The golden lion let out a half-hearted roar, eyes open and intently studying the dark lion under him the entire time. Scar flinched and blinked, but didn't appear impressed.

"Please, my mother could roar louder in her grave. Remember, I'm doing you a favor for the good of the people."

The dark lion gazed intently at him with narrowed eyes, hoping that he would indulge him and give him something loud. For surely, the sound of a foreign male roaring so grandly would alert Mufasa to a dangerous ruffian more than Scar's own pitiable cries ever could. As it was, it was surely only a matter of time before the golden king leapt into the fray and trounced this galling intruder. And when the lion roared louder than any he'd ever heard before, if only in a bout of frustration and a marked lack of forethought, he could do nothing but cringe, his face pinched and his mind absently hoping that his eardrums hadn't been pounded into absolute oblivion.

"_Are you happy_?" the lion rasped hoarsely, a tinge in his deep brown eyes hinting to murderous intent. He panted, still recovering from the great breath he'd taken and no doubt suffering from the strain plaguing his vocal cords. "Can I kill you now?"

"Oh, but wait… not yet. You have to say a prayer to the great spirits."

Scar simpered, knowing he'd annoyed the lion near the breaking point and could not hope to live much longer. The golden individual's reply was accordingly brusque, his voice still as full of asperity as rough, gritty sandpaper.

"How? To who?"

"Well…" Scar trailed off, realizing that his fear was catching up to him and that he hadn't planned this far ahead. The other lion squeezed him harshly, patience dangerously low.

"_Well,_" he mocked tauntingly, "why don't you show me? Go on, _lion_, pray for me."

"Oh please, I can't pray _for_ you." Scar chuckled, teeth displayed in a perfectly straight, innocent expression. In truth, though, he would have had no ideas on where to begin… and this conversation sounded so familiar—right down to the timbre of his attacker's deep and booming voice.

"Why not? I thought you were supposed to be a _pious_ individual."

His tone sounded so degrading, so mocking… and in that split instant, despite the lion's dark mane, Scar saw a hint of Mufasa in him. He noticed his power, his shimmering gold coat, and his amber eyes, which always stared in deeply and looked terror-inducing when he was angry.

That was just something the present king would say as well. And for his brother, Scar had to make himself clear—he had to make a statement. Otherwise the lion would just push him around until he was shoved off the ends of the earth.

Perhaps delusion played a part in what he did next. For Mufasa was never far from his troubled mind, and there was no escaping that, or the spreading nonsense which would encamp itself into the already-crowded space between his ears.

"You know I don't believe in that ass-tripe, brother…" his voice came out as a distracted mumble, eyes seemingly hazy and not focused on his antagonist. "Spirits, _pah_… what bloody nonsense…" he growled, staring off into the distance with both a shiny trail of saliva and the slightest hints of self-satisfaction staining his face…

Until, of course, it once again dawned on him that this was not Mufasa.

If the spirits did exist, he deserved to be cursed for his stupidity.

"At least, I don't believe in—"

"Hahahaha_ha!" _The older lion looked overjoyed at this incriminating evidence, sending a pang of instant regret coursing through his victim's body… although really, it was only a matter of time before he broke down and finally killed him. Their game was only going to last so long.

"I knew it. I knew you were toying with me _all along_. You filthy _liar_." His face contorted with rage, and Scar vainly tried to cover his tracks… though all involved knew that it was far too late to attempt to prove his innocence. In a way, Scar almost wished he hadn't said anything… the lion would have been quick and he would already be dead.

"No, no, I don't really—"

"_QUIET! _I am going to kill you…" he looked at him severely, anger burning at the thought of being thus tricked and further antagonized by Scar's inadvertently relaxed expression. "… But first, I will _rip_ _out_ that wagging tongue of yours so I may _never _hear your insidious lies again!"

The lion stopped and every part of him tensed in suspense, obviously not prepared for this… development. His teeth instinctively gritted together into a stiff, interlocked position, lips pulled tightly together and angry defiance burning in his eyes. He wouldn't make it easy for him… though that didn't seem to trouble the younger lion. Noting a flimsy bandage half peeled away at his victim's ribs, he pulled it off and studied the wound, a smirk exposing a flash of his teeth.

His unsheathed a claw and noted the tender, hairless flesh that was struggling to heal over. The entire area was sore and inflamed, the lips of the cut beginning to join together irregularly to form a long, jagged scar. But so much for that.

He dug in his claw and reopened the gash, blood oozing out in a relatively slow trickle as he pulled it deliberately across his hide… though he noticed the reaction it caused his elder, who closed his eyes and couldn't help but expose his teeth. All he noticed was the raw feeling of red-hot waves rolling over him like a bloody ocean, the shock of it shaking his core and slowly, gradually squeezing an anguished, lengthy cry of pain from his contracted diaphragm. He tried to bottle it up, to again hide and dam back his hurt, though when the lion twisted the hooked implement back and forth inside of his body and tortuously tortured the side of his torso, it was too much.

The angry lion grasped his spread-apart maw and tried to pry his muzzle open, Scar's nose being forced upwards as his mandible was pulled down and seemingly to the point where it was going to break off from his skull. His face was contorted and scrunched, mostly due to his attacker but also because of the pained expression which covered his visage and forced a pained moan to be issued from his throat. The fire burning in his jaw was intense in its own right, the lion continuously fearful that it would be broken under the lion's deathly grip.

He felt the claws clutch his wet tongue, the sharp points digging in as he prepared himself for the gut-wrenching pain of having it severed and butchered away. Everything tensed, everything was silent save for the half-coherent moans his caught figure was emitting…

And then the lion stopped.

Scar hung in this tenuous position for several moments, eyes screwed shut in sick anticipation of subsequent events, but nothing came. The claws were still there, but there was no conviction behind their grasp, and the lion himself did nothing. He appeared dizzy, his breathing becoming heavy and his legs twitching wildly.

There was little pain anymore… only the throbbing in the hinges of his jawbone which never seemed to go away, likely because of the fact that his lips were open wide enough for a whole paw to mostly fit inside. He breathed through his gaping mouth, heartbeat slowing as he waited there…

His attacker fell over.

The horrible claws and paws were gone, his stiff muzzle relaxing shut until he could bend down and lick away the zigzagging lines of blood staining his matted fur. Which unfortunately wasn't anytime soon because the other lion's form was slumped limply over him, brawny and horrible muscles now only serving as more dead weight pinning him to the floor.

Sticking out of the uniform mat of golden fur was an acacia thorn, which had neatly punctured his right shoulder and barreled deeply into the flesh. Several bright feathers were sticking out, bound with twine like hostages to the light missile, hues congruous to wild lights at a carnival… bright reds and yellows and blues which contrasted sharply with the dull brown of the sharp sticker which had been shoved into its victim. The flesh around it was already becoming dark and discolored, veins sticking black and varicose above the skin in a sickening display only vaguely hidden by his hide. The breath from his muzzle was irregular and shallow; his heartbeat was a sickly, thudding throb which stopped after another a short while.

He was dead. Or dying, perhaps—Scar didn't know, though the lion was certainly unconscious.

The only problem was that now he was stuck, his weakened form unable to shove the golden body off of him… no matter how much he twitched and writhed like a coiled serpent pressed under a boot. He tried to wedge his shoulder into the lion and pry him off, even kicking him harshly in an attempt to dislodge him… though all this did was cause the stiffened feline to bounce a little, dark mane flopping like a limp, dirty flag, and come crashing back down on top of his victim.

A few more attempts and Scar was tired, panting hard under the corpse's crushing embrace. He could see the golden mouth slightly agape in a circular shape, one which hid his sharpened saber fangs, with his eyes closed softly and expression almost innocent… a look which starkly contrasted with the terrifying, angry countenance he'd donned only moments prior.

Yet this did nothing to soothe him, for the lion in death was still lying across his ribcage, limbs already unnaturally stiff and swaying slightly. The entire weight of the carcass was squeezing his body, slowly suffocating the zealous attempts his lungs made at breathing and catching up with the racing pace of his heart.

A part of him was angry over this, cursing his luck as he slowly suffered from the lack of oxygen… the spirits, assuming that they existed, truly _did _curse him. After all, they saved him from a horrifying death only for another demise to be lying in wait for him! What sort of sick, perverse joke was this…? Why would the lion just _die_, presumably killed by some unknown ally, only to be left on top of him? What the _hell_…?

But then he felt the scent wafting by his nose, the familiar odor causing his muscles to stiffen more tersely than those of the dead body above him. Oh no. Oh, merciful spirits which obviously felt nothing towards him, _no_.

"Do you need help there, _dear_?"

There was no mistaking—that was Zira's chronically stiff, brunt voice. He breathed harshly, the dead lion's chest still pressing at his ribs and side… he tried to manage a weak 'no', though she could barely hear him. She was still off to the side, in the grass, and he couldn't see anything behind the mass of lion blocking his view. He missed the slight, cocky smirk she flashed him, or the toothy chuckle she emitted in conjunction with it.

"Scar, did you know that a single bite from a black mamba can kill _over nine thousand_ mice? Fascinating, isn't it…?"

Her nearby, inquisitive rasp had sounded over his harsh, ragged breathing, which was promptly relieved when she suddenly rammed into the cadaver and shoved it partially off of the dark lion, who was grateful for the relieved pressure… even if he still couldn't move his limbs.

"Lucky I'm not a mouse, then… although that's about all I'm lucky for."

"Oh," she chuckled flatly, red eyes gleaming in a hidden sense of adroitness, "I put enough on that thing to kill an elephant. Rafiki has some useful tricks up in that tree of his. And when I heard the roar, well…"

She paused, unsure of how she should continue. Her muzzle was wrought into a self-satisfied expression, something which contrasted thickly with his anger. "_You're lucky_ I was even here. From the looks of things I'd say the cat had your tongue."

Her literal metaphor surpassed the bounds of his atrophied sense of humor.

"How did you even…?" He angrily motioned with his narrowed, acid eyes—which were about his only mobile body part—towards the acacia sticker, which was oozing venom. "What if you'd shot _me_ with that, hmm?"

"I never miss," she chirped with plenty of casual levity.

Great. She had bet his life on her marksmanship skills… though he had to admit that he was surprised he was still alive. That made him inclined to think she had indeed missed after all.

"Why'd you dare to show your face here?" He attempted to free himself, though he only flopped like a caught fish dangling helplessly on a line. Zira looked puzzled, lips pressed into a thin, patient line. It had to have been the delusion; after all, she'd seen his wounded figure briefly in the tree, even though Mufasa had been intent on her leaving…

"You look hurt. If you wish for help, I can—"

"_Please, _just stop!" He growled, his entire world swinging by him dizzily. This wasn't worth the effort. Scar was about one false step away from losing his mind… he had to have been. He flopped his head back harshly on the ground, mane parting to reveal his vulnerable throat. She noticed the slender form of his gorge contract as he swallowed in fear, likely from being trapped, and when he let out a soft breath it was in surrender.

"Go and cut it, _curses on you_," he spat, voice brimming with venom more potent than that which had killed his foe. "Better than sending _Usiku _to do it, hmm?"

Zira's face softened in realization. She'd never meant to hurt him, and yet this was inevitably her fault. That's why she had returned at all… his life had been on the line due to his injuries, and whether it was requited or not, she still felt a sense of affection and protectiveness towards him which piqued at the sound of the foreign roar mingled with his faint scent.

She turned, revealing a halfway scarred-over patch of open skin that ran up and down her shoulder. It slowly dripped blood and, though she'd obviously administered to it carefully, clear fluid—doubtlessly pus or some similar substance indicating infection.

"I didn't mean for her to find you, Scar. I kept my mouth shut, though she did this to my shoulder and threatened to slice me to ribbons if I didn't tell her… I guess she thought that she would find the king if she found you, or would administer her sense of justice…"

"So you let go? You betrayed me to have me _wounded _thus?"

"No!" She cried with a sudden urgency, not pleased with his accusations. "Why would I do that…? I lied. I told her you were in the south, in the Pridelands, since I knew you wouldn't set a foot there. And then I ran away, for my own safety and to hopefully find you before it was too late…"

"But I _was _in the Pridelands," he replied brusquely, ignoring her explanation. "I was nearly killed because of your _thoughtless _actions…"

"Well, you told me you were in the east, paying a ransom." And then, with as much frank austerity as she could muster, the scrawny, tawny lioness continued thoughtfully in her defense: "you know, it's not my fault if you lie to me, Scar. I was only trying to help you."

She was right, of course, in a way. He still hated her for it, as he hated being wrong… but now he could see the rather shameful revelation which he hadn't believed ever since he'd first met Zira. And that was that she was genuine. She did want to help him. She meant him no harm. And most of all, she'd saved his life more than once… if it weren't for her, he would have died already, several times over.

The suspicions were false. Zira was just a lioness… a crazed, somewhat enigmatic lioness who obviously didn't know what was best for her, but no threat to him nonetheless. She hadn't taken his offer, for she obviously did not have her sights set on killing him.

"Fine, then. Fair enough. Could you lend a paw? I need to speak with you about… this."

Whatever 'this' was.

Zira said nothing, of course, but she was complacent enough. Using as much strength as her wiry body could muster from its supple muscles, she pushed the dead weight off of him. Scar immediately rose to his feet, obviously not in the best of moods, though still sensible enough to understand what she meant to him.

He couldn't kill her. She'd come back after everything, and had finally proven herself in a way. As such they stood, rather awkwardly, for several moments, Scar pressing her with his piercing verdure irises.

It was time to take this to the next level, and make it official. Because at this point, he badly needed someone loyal to stand by his side and help prevent accidents like this one. His brother was ambivalent and wildly unpredictable, to say the least, and none of the others seemed to harbor much goodwill towards him.

"Come here."

She did so, muzzle pressed together tautly and silently. Her head dipped slightly in deference to him, the lion taking this opportunity to clutch the clumpy scruff of mane-like fur which hung limply across her forehead.

"What are you doing?" She instinctively stiffened, not inclined to appreciate the way Scar was handling her scruffy 'mini-mane'. It was a strange feature which she and her mother had both shared, and it appeared to run in the family.

"We are starting over," Scar replied shortly, too busy with his work to extrapolate. His claws cut and sawed away at the patch of fur, leaving it short and bristly between her ears. At this point, the light fur was sparse enough to allow a clear view of the stripe which ran from the center of her forehead to the point where her shoulder blades poked out from under her hide. Her face already looked considerably different—it had lost its youthful, indolent look, and the angles which her hair had hidden were now visible and sharp like the rest of her chiseled face.

"From this point forward, you are no longer a member of my brother's pride, nor any other. You do not answer to them. Like the rogues that were your ancestors, you belong to no group but your own… the one you have chosen… and this stripe is a symbol of that. Keep it visible always."

Zira looked up at him in understanding, red eyes showing a rare glint of submissiveness like a mirror into her reverent spirit. From now on, she was only loyal to him, and for the first time they both realized it.

"You are mine. I will protect you, when I have recovered, and you shall do the same for me. There must be no more division amongst ourselves… and for now you are the only one I trust. Do you understand the gravity of this agreement?"

"Of course," she replied gravely, softly…

"Then under the weight of death, let us seal our oath." He unsheathed a claw and pricked the edge of one of his digits, allowing a splash of blood to silently grace the tufted, mussed contour of his other paw and drip down into his palm… Zira followed suit, her claw efficiently running a notch through her ear which left a crimson red in her wake. They glanced stolidly at each other, her sanguine eyes meeting his jade-hued gaze. And then their paws met, clasping together strongly and sealing their arrangement. No longer would he be the weakling, the manipulated variable. It was time to even the odds, to right the wrongs… there would be a time to plan his future, to think ahead and turn the tables. But for now, they had each other, and that was all they needed to plot the next step.

"I must return to the tree. I doubt Mufasa will be happy otherwise…" he looked off into the distance, lips pursed in an irritated, vaguely determined expression. "… Meet here tomorrow. Do you hear me?"

"Yes. I will… if…"

_If I can_, she thought to herself. For alas, there was no way she could be sure in arriving safely. The Pridelands were sadly off-limits, at least after what happened with Nala and then with Mufasa's posse…

"If what?"

"Nothing, dear. Nothing. I'll be there tomorrow."

They parted and left their separate ways, both vaguely troubled. For there was danger presently brewing, dark and stormy, on the horizon… and on the eve of its arrival, when the harbingers of doom had assailed their deadly-quiet doorstep, the attack he'd suffered through at the paws of that lion would be the least of his worries…

* * *

><p><em>So Zira came back! In addition, I kind of hinted at several things which happened in canon, since it's common knowledge that TLK II is extremely sketchy and vapid in its details and reasoning when it comes to... that stuff. The notch in her right ear represents her covenant of sorts with Scar, as well as the stripe down her head (as I've already explained), which she shows to display her continuing devotion to him. Continuing on with the logic of my theory, Zira is Vitani's mother, and that explains the similar fureye color as well as the tuft, which Zira had until this chapter._

_Oh, and to avoid another salamander blunder like that from last chapter (thanks goes to **pokeking95 **for noticing they don't live in Africa), I actually did some research on black mamba venom. They had some chart on how many mg of venom it takes to kill 50% of the individuals in a kg of mice if injected subcutaneously and blah blah blah... so pretty much, as the website said, if you take into account the average weight of the mice and how much the mamba injects on average in venom, you get enough for about 9375 dead mice in one bite. So, what's the venom's power level?_

_...It's over NINE THOUSAND!_

_... dead mice..._

_..._

_Sorry, I just had to. I'd feel bad if I missed such a perfect opportunity. Review as always, my lovelies! ;p Try not to maul me though... or any red little girls you may find in this locale._

_¿Yo les he dicho a ustedes cuanto yo los amo? ;o Sigan leyendo, amigos y amigas. Mil gracias._

_Twin _


	37. Love and Hate

_**A/N:**_

_Hey all. :] I've come with the next Trampled chapter. Whoopeee. xD However, do note that I am in San Diego as of last night (most of this was written on the bus trip) and will be here for ten days. Don't expect any updates for the rest of this month and expect only limited correspondence. I'll be busy and I have summer reading to work on anyways, lest I cram in it in the last few days of summer. Px_

_Oh, and there's some fluff in here. But no lemons. Just a deformed, growth-deficient lime-lemon, being generous maybe._

_If that didn't make much sense (likely the case), then I'll just say that there are references to sexual behavior. Nothing graphic though. I mean, the rating's T, we can all handle it, T is what you got when you signed up so NO REFUNDS. xP_

_Reviews! (I'll keep this short. I'm not on my computer! xD)_

**_pokeking95: _**_I've never seen DBZ, honestly, but it's everywhere... or maybe it's old and it was *doesn't really know* lol And thank you. See, this is why I love you guys... you're all so nice. xD To be honest, though, I was wondering how Zira used the dart herself. I was going to give her a dart gun, but then there'd be no way for her to carry it. xP Glad you liked the chapter. :]_

**_IronicSnap: _**_PAHAHA. Well, yes, you are a time-traveler. We've discussed this via PM already (speaking of which, I just read your last one). Heheh. xD_

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Ahahaha, that'd be great for a parody or something. Too bad I suck at writing anything funny. xP And I suppose it is ironic, now that you mention it. :) And I always thought Zira was a strange one. I mean, they never explain who she really is. And who are those three cubs she hangs around with? Are they her children or not, people? -.- That said, filling in the gaps is pretty easy since it's so vague, and I thought that might make more sense of it for you guys. :]_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Do it, do it, do it! Like I said, I can't write anything funny, so it would probably be better if I not do that, y'know? xP And yeah, people have asked me if T&P were ever going to be in this story. I know at least one person PMed me about it. But if I put them in it'd just be a short cameo and this story is having less and less time for such diversions. xP That said, good luck with your writing endeavors - I wish you the best of luck with your co-authorship. :3_

_Also, I think Scar would have died (or at least been _severely_ impaired for the remainder of the story) if he'd gotten his tongue ripped out, so I don't think that would have happened. xP_

**_mom: _**_Yeah, the 'love story' only gets better from here. I know their relationship is kind of dysfunctional, but that's what makes it so Scar/Zira. xD_

**_My Dictator Level Is Over 9000: _**_I suppose, considering your username, you _would _say that. :p lol_

**_TheBreekachu: _**_Aww, thank you. :) And of course I would have read your story! Thanks for uploading it and keep working on it! (I will graciously accept your cheesecake gift :p)_

**_Aweosmeness4eva: _**_*imagines Scar making a troll face XD* Wow. lol_

**_Scar97: _**_Hey there! Welcome back onboard, the Chapter 37 departure is leaving now! (Alright, I'm sorry. I was on the bus too long. xD) No worries, and enjoy. :D_

_Alright, let's go! :p_

* * *

><p>There was a tense moment in the cave, and neither was sure of how long it lasted. Only that the younger one was impetuous in his questioning.<p>

"_Zamani_..."

She heard the words, but they may well have been a hundred miles away. Up and down the cave she looked, surveying it. Never again would she have expected to rule this _wretched _place.

"Zamani, come on, you gotta tell us what happened to Shenzi!"

"_Later, Banzai_," she snapped, though she was well aware of the crowd gathered and waiting to hear the news. They had accepted her acting as a temporary regent in the midst of a crisis, but now that that was over... they wanted to know where their Shenzi had gone, and why she had not returned to her home. Already many of her fellow packmates were lined up, convinced that they should lead a search party to find her.

Yet Zamani knew that that would be useless. If her niece was as smart as she knew she was, then neither hide nor hair of her would be seen—doubtlessly she was to wander in the Outlands, or somewhere farther away than here.

Their cries, however, would not stop.

"Silence—_silence! You will listen!_"

They did so, if only because they remembered and thus recognized her almost filial authority over them. A hundred yellow eyes focused on her intently, waiting for her to speak. It hadn't been long since her commands were commonplace.

"Shenzi's gone," she snapped, a pang of regret piquing at the loss of her niece… one which was quickly replaced with anger. "She _left_ us, right when we needed her tha most."

Cries and murmurs of shock and skepticism trickled through the crowd. Yet it was true, in a way… it wasn't the whole truth, but in these situations the pack and its well-being came before any loyalties or even family bonds. They needed to know who was in charge, for she would inevitably bring them out of this disaster.

"Now _you _tell _me_, who'dja rather have to leadja? A _deserter_"—she paused dramatically, eying their confused faces—"or someone who's led ta pack before? You make your choice, now… and choose wisely."

Another pause accented the terse mood in the air… and it was one of those in which fate itself seemed to be hanging like a thick shadow in the torpid, humid atmosphere. This was a game-changing moment—if they rejected her or accused her of usurpation, a serious crime in the midst of the fraternal order of the hyenas, she could face death. But if they believed her, she would once again be on the seat of power, paws on the reins of the mighty chariot which could, given the chance, vanquish their enemies.

Already she coveted the scepter again.

Yet it hadn't been long since she'd held it, and the hyenas were more accustomed to her rule than that of Shenzi's. It seemed almost like a natural relapse, a mere break from the rule of their iron mistress. It didn't seem particularly strange to them—as much as Shenzi was beloved for her strength and devotion, and as much as it surprised them that she would just _leave_, Zamani was simply more experienced. Her control was what they needed now, more than ever…

"Ya got any questions, any of ya?" She paused, letting the words sink in and crease her face into a self-satisfied visage. "Good."

Only Banzai remained a skeptic, his taut face clearly displaying his doubts. But her latent ferocity was barely-veiled, its fire simmering like an ebullient liquid as she bore her teeth into a sick grimace. He hadn't seen her like that before—at least, not in many, many years, as the most pertinent memories he did have of Zamani as their leader came from a time when his world was wrapped eternally in fog and the naivety of youth.

He remembered a time when they'd lived in the Pridelands, however young he had been then, and he still retained the surreal, colorful inklings of mental pictures he'd taken during their exile… when they'd been forced to abandon their home and take up residence within the dry, dusty clime of the Outlands. Zamani had been younger then, about middle-aged, and more of a hot-headed firebrand. Yet she had no children of her own, and the closest individual she'd been with had been Shenzi…

"Zamani… ya know, I don't think that—"

"Not now, Banzai," she dismissed him shortly, turning away to face behind her somewhere; until, of course, he continued to speak without permission, using the worst words possible. A reference to a promise which had hung in the old matriarch's mind ever since her niece had run away.

He paused, clearing his throat. And then he prodded her again, succeeding in capturing her attention with his brashness.

"… I think I know Nira'd want'cha to look for her."

Zamani's reaction was immediate, swift and intense in its magnitude. She whirled around and fixed him with her old eyes, still brandishing fire in them despite her age. He gazed into her features and instantly quivered in fear of the coming wrath, regretting he'd said anything to provoke the madness in her spirit…

"_Do _not _mention that name to me!_"

She took several paw-steps forward, her look rabid and angry in spite of her self. Banzai shrunk back and attempted to apologize, but she was by no means finished with him.

"Why, ya wanna go out there ya'self? Make the same mistake _Shenzi _did? 'Cause I'll have ya know that I will—_not—TOLERATE_—_that_!"

The hyena whimpered slightly under his breath, and he knew instantly that, as much as he wanted to find Shenzi, find out the _truth _about why she left… he knew he couldn't. Not now. He would stay, even if he had to watch the madness in her eyes grow with each passing day. For right now it was burning bright, her entire visage wild and unkempt.

Her sister, Nira, however… she had always been a sweet old thing, meek and knowledgeable of her place—a stark contrast to her belligerent older sibling. There was a promise the younger one had made, an arrangement that benefited her daughter, Shenzi, and the entire pack along with it… for Zamani wielded more influence on the young pup than her own mother ever had, and aunt and niece were inseparable for as long as any could remember…

A shame that they were separated. But that was something he could not attempt to figure out for now.

Suddenly Asokai ran in timidly, his young figure glistening with sweat as he stood, unusually hunched and bowed as with the grave weight of an important message. Speaking loud enough for the others to hear, he irrationally blurted out the news.

"The lioness! She's here!"

The other hyenas tensed up in fear, their confused eyes showing bewilderment. Lioness? Here? _In the den? _A murmur passed through the crowd like a disease, their words showing derision towards the species which had stripped and raped them of everything they'd had. But Zamani looked relaxed, and the short, terse chuckle she gave signaled that they should do the same.

It was all a part of the plan.

"Heheheh… _Bring 'er in_."

* * *

><p>"<em>Sugarcane<em>…"

The soft whisper poked delicately through the darkness like a perfume, its wavering timbre wafting across the wind with the sweet kiss of affection.

"_Sugarcane…"_

"Huh?" She jerked awake, brown eyes briefly betraying surprise. And then her expression softened. "Oh, hey."

Her neck extended automatically, face accepting the warm feline kiss he gave her on the cheek.

"It's late," she whispered, her face worried as she looked across the empty royal den to the vast moonlit savanna outside. The grass wavered softly in the breeze, illuminated by the beams of light that framed the celestial orb, which in its turn hung soft-edged in the inky darkness of the evening. "I thought you'd be out all night."

"No, not tonight, sweet." His bulky form lay down by her side, warm body comforting amongst the icy stone of the sparse, cold cave. The lion sidled up to her and adjusted himself, making sure he was comfortable. The freezing chill in his ruffled pelt, a remnant from the dry coldness outside, quickly melted away and revealed his fur's fluffy texture. "I didn't want to leave you alone again."

He licked her, wet tongue gracefully sliding past the contours of her nose and face, slicking the chocolate fur there.

"_Hmm, hmm_," she chuckled warmly. "I missed you, Ahadi. I've been waiting to talk to you."

The lion leaned down, his big and muscular form—normally quite intimidating, though now barely visible in its silhouetted form—a thick ball of warmth and comfort now that he was in the den with his beloved mate. He whispered in her ear, humid breath tickling the tawny fur lining the inside of the orifice there.

"_Then you know I'm listening._" He smiled, teeth glistening from the lunar light outside. "What is it, love?"

She grinned pleasantly in her turn, sharp brown eyes glistening with the slightest hint of suppressed joy and hidden excitement as she rested her head in the comfortable nook under his chin. The king's raven mane surrounded her, its familiar scent and feel appealing.

"I'll tell you at the end. It's kind of _a surprise_."

"Oh, a _surprise_, hmm? Will I _like_ this… _surprise_?"

"Yeah," her lips twisted into a wide smile which belied her truly ecstatic emotion. "Just for us… Our little secret."

Each basked in the content, loving gaze of the other for several moments, just enjoying the silence and the mutual company they shared. The lioness queen dug her face into his soft mane, burying herself in him. Basking in his heat like the sunbathing huntress she was during the day. For he was like the sun to her, only with the spark of life in his eyes and the gentle sounds of a heartbeat lighting up his chest. She liked to listen, just remaining by his side and pressing her head against his ribs, letting the pulse of his heart lullaby her to sleep…

But not tonight. She still had to tell him the news.

"Ahadi…" she mumbled, voice muffled by the clumps of mane surrounding her face, "… tell me about your day."

"My day?" He smiled, though his voice let out a frustrated, wheezing chuckle. It was clear that the stress of the times was wearing on him, and he needed to vent and relieve the pressure burdening his shoulders with _someone_… as such, she often found herself pressed with the lathered rants he conjured up when angry. But she tried to bear them with all the support she had to offer.

"Well, darling, I'm afraid you can imagine how it went. Ulaghai and his dogs are _at it again_…"

"Oh," her mouth formed a round shape, interested in what he was saying, "and the hyenas, too?"

"Yes, of _course _the hyenas!" His green eyes were lit with a spark which matched the scowl on his face. "I can't get those two to stop squabbling for five minutes, it's ridiculous!"

"Have you tried to get them to settle their differences?" She offered helpfully.

"Yes, yes…" he sighed wearily.

"And you intervened?"

"About two weeks ago!" The frustrated expression returned. "Those damned hyenas… I swear I told them, 'I know the drought is rough. I'm doing the best I can with what I know,' and then they were all pointing fingers at each other, and oh, '_Ulaghai did this_', and '_my spirits, can you believe what Zamani and her sister did?_' and… my, it's chaos out there! I almost wish that _spirits-damned lake didn't exist!_"

The queen again adopted a concerned expression, laying her soft, furry paw on his shoulder. She didn't like hearing him talk like that. King Ahadi's heartbeat was sharp and frenetic, not like the soft and gentle one she knew… but he was stressed, and burdened with the troubles of the kingdom her father had left him to rule. She couldn't blame him for feeling the way he did, and this was ultimately the best she could do for him.

"Ahadi, the drought _isn't _your fault. We're probably just getting the rains late, that's all. Tell them to wait. The water will come, spirits willing…"

"I _wish _I could just tell them that. Just to wait. But damn, they're an impatient bunch…" his voice trailed off, now softer, calmer… but quickly the throes of agitation returned. "I mean, I spent all day trying to get all the sides of the story so I could settle their measly dispute! They claimed that I wasn't being fair, that the boundary lines I set weren't good enough. I mean, what can I do? I cut the damned thing in half!"

His mate pressed her lips tautly into a thin, patient line, but urged him with her eyes to continue.

"You know what they told me? What their argument was?" He laughed sorely, hints of a growl forming its tendrils in his throat. "Yeah, get this… apparently the hyenas have got an _island_—I saw the cursed thing, it's barely a lump of mud—on their side, so they claim they have less water. Even though there are less of them in the Pridelands anyways and their side is deeper… I told them I'd look into it, that they should just share the water the best they can regardless, but spirits damn me if there's any pleasing those two…"

"No…" she spoke up softly. "Spirits _don't _damnyou."

"Huh?" he asked, visibly confused.

"They'll figure it out—you'll see. It'll all be okay… and this drought will end soon enough."

She nestled her head gently into the bristling fur on his shoulder, Ahadi's hackles visibly drooping and his features becoming relaxed as she touched him. It was comforting, in a way… for them to have each other to talk to, to lean on when times were hard… and they certainly were now. His kingship was being put to the test, and the Pridelands and its subjects were being forced to endure whatever tests and duties would fall upon them for survival.

He was out later and later each night, often spending days without sleeping and coming back with thick, worn bags under his eyes. She hated seeing him like that, his handsome figure so pitiful and haggard… and it was more important now than ever before for them to stay closely bonded.

Both of them understood this.

"You always knew how to cheer me up, Uru."

"I know," she replied modestly, "I love you, Ahadi. I just wish I could cheer _them _up for you too…"

"… _Hmppt,_ exactly. If only _everyone_ could succumb to your charm like I did…" He nuzzled her tenderly, letting her know how much he treasured her presence. But she already understood. He'd made it clear so many times… yet she knew better than to take it for granted. After all, her father had said, to die by love was to live by it… "How about you? How are the boys doing?"

Her face grew into a pained expression, and instantly he regretted asking. The pleading look in her soft eyes was enough.

"Oh, I see. Is Taka still upset over… Sarabi and Mufasa?"

"Yes," she replied simply, obviously troubled about it. "I don't think he thinks it's fair."

"Life's not fair," the king responded curtly.

"Yes, well… I don't think he understands." She bowed her head, conflicted emotions playing across her face like a slideshow. "I mean, I never wanted it to come to this. I wanted to give my children the love and companionship my father gave to me with you, but I don't think I could ever be as wise as he was."

The lioness queen looked at Ahadi, wearied feelings still reflecting in her squinted irises and her taut countenance. "What if I made the wrong choice?"

"Nonsense. Think of how _we were_ when we were betrothed. …You _do _remember when we first met, don't you?" His face broke out into a smile at the memories of long ago, the nostalgia of a time when life was simpler and easier. She couldn't help but do the same, despite the gravity of what she was feeling.

"Yes, of course. I shoved you into the waterhole and said you should stay away because you smelled like a warthog and needed a bath."

"I never _did _forget that…"

"_But Ahadi_," she interjected, back to her previous train of thought, "my father saw something in you. He must've known we'd like each other! And Sarabi… I think she would make a good queen, but…"

"But what? They already get along better than we ever did as adolescents."

She sighed in response. Alas, what he said was true—it was funny, in a way, when she looked back on it… but she'd hated Ahadi at first. Well, maybe she didn't hate Ahadi himself, as a lion… but she hated the _idea _he entailed. She didn't like _not_ having a choice. But in time she understood just what the king Mohatu had seen in him, why he'd chosen the young lion as his heir and thusly the mate of his daughter, the princess Uru… herself.

He'd irritated her. Neither of them had a choice, and he knew he had to impress her and make up to her if he was ever going to rule. But she'd been bitter, and angry… In time, though, her loneliness and isolation as the only child of the king won over. She'd deigned to give him a chance, and from there they'd become reluctant friends. Over time, best friends. And then, without warning, something much closer and deeper than _just _friends…

The lion had wormed his way into her heart like a disease after that, complete with the itching and the infectiousness of… each other. But it wasn't all bad. In fact, in the end, it was one of the best things she could have asked for.

Yet when it came to her children, it was her turn to not be so easily convinced. The home was her domain—her kingdom—and the last thing she wanted was for it to crumble apart. She understood Ahadi's concern, but… it was she who would have to handle the problem. That was her role.

"Nonetheless, I don't think we should betroth Taka… I'm worried about his well-being. Mufasa invited him out to go on another trip together, brotherly bonding or something. He wants to make sure they're still close."

Ahadi visibly grimaced, green eyes flashing. Why would Mufasa do that so soon? Take Taka out with him when their last sojourn had been such a disaster?

"We can't just break tradition because he's unhappy with how it works. Besides, he_ seems_ to be getting close to that Sarafina girl…?" he trailed off hopefully.

"Honey, I want _both _my children to be happy, not just Mufasa. The tradition was for the crown prince to be betrothed so there was no question as to who the queen would be. But if we leave Taka open, he will know that even though he didn't get Sarabi, he will have his choice amongst any of the other lionesses… be it Sarafina or be it another."

"Well…" Ahadi looked hesitant, as though he would be breaking the rules if both his sons didn't have mates soon. But Uru was steady in her convictions. "Alright, but one question: how could he _possibly _know when he's found the right lioness? He doesn't have the experience; he'll make a mista—"

"He won't make a mistake." She replied surely. "Trust me, Ahadi. Mothers just know these things."

She licked him reassuringly, though the lion looked oddly distant. This understandably made her unhappy… for she thought she knew the reason why he acted that way. The relationship between the king and his youngest son had grown strained and distant, and it worried her whenever she thought back to it.

"I just wish Taka would take a mate like his brother and be happy. His behavior worries me sometimes… I wish he had more of me and Mufasa in him."

The lioness looked surprised. "Why would you say that, Ahadi? They're two different lions… wishing them to be alike is…"

"I know, I _know _how that sounds." He grimaced, looking down at his paws. His point of view disappointed his mate, and to disappoint her in that way ashamed him. "I love both of them, I really do… but…"

"But what?" She demanded.

"But I don't _understand_ Taka…" he mumbled crossly, looking at his giant, golden paws. He hadn't spent much time with either of his sons lately—Mufasa seemed to understand his busyness, but Taka felt slighted by it and seemed to hold it personally. That bothered Ahadi… mostly because he felt unduly resented by his son, and also because he was afraid of losing him. "I mean, Mufasa makes sense to me. He's just like _I_ was as a boy, just like my father wanted _me _to be… he knows his duties, he's a quick learner, he's strong and brave… When I hit him or tell him he's done wrong, he knows he's transgressed and he doesn't do it again."

"And Taka?"

"I don't know, Uru… I love him—I do!" He looked defensive at any perceived accusation against his fathering skills. "But he always thinks I'm mad at him, and he seems to want to rub it in my face. I mean, spirits, if _my _father caught me stealing food back near the River Turf, regardless of circumstances… why, I know he'd have my hide for it!" Ahadi closed his eyes, attempting to cover his disappointed, ashamed expression. A prince, stealing… he still couldn't believe it. Mufasa never would have done that, and yet Taka had the gall to, for some reason…

"I got a little angry. I told him he was in the wrong, I… Well, maybe I hit him a _little _too hard, but he looked like he'd melt right there in front of me. After I told him I didn't want him leaving for four weeks—a lenient punishment!—he just sulked all the way home…"

He growled again, an unusually dark sound which brought out an eerie green glint in his eyes. It shone through the darkness like a light, flames of anger burning behind the lenses. Uru was disturbed at how the expression seemed to be returning more and more often… and at the discussion of their own son, no less… but part of what he was saying was, in a way, true.

"I was in the right, Uru. He's just too damn sensitive… Mufasa wouldn't have—"

"But he's _not _Mufasa," she said finally. "If you took the time to _really_ get to know him, you would see that."

"…I know," he acceded bitterly, features worried and wrought. "I just never have _time _anymore."

"He's only a boy, Ahadi… and this is a phase he's going through. Have faith in him—he'll grow out of it soon enough. Like I said, mothers know these things." A sagacious smile crept across her face, and at long last he sighed, a wearied and acquiescent sound. She was right, and she was an excellent mother regardless… in that way she was performing her duties well. It was _he _who was failing, letting the kingdom fall apart under him. If it wasn't for her, he would have been lost long ago, swept out to sea by his torrent of not just his regal duties and responsibilities… but those of the family as well.

"They both know I love them, don't they?"

Uru frowned inwardly, but didn't let him see her doubt. There was only a positive note—honeyed words which neither were really sure of anymore, and were soon to be put to the test. They just held their breath and believed in them.

"I'm sure they know very well," she whispered, her soothing tone calming him. "You _do _know _I _love you, don't you?"

"Too bad I love you more," he retorted with a smile, his paw caressing her and tracing a line down the slender curve of her stomach. He could feel her body begin to rumble in waves of purring which reverberated throughout her being, a pleasured sound which pricked him and urged him to continue…

"I love you most," she simpered and closed her eyes, the sound in her throat overpowering her for a brief moment as he licked her in between her ears, warm tongue slicking circles of fur until he found the edge of her ear and nipped it with his teeth. She let out a yelp, though it quickly melted into a laugh as he gave the final word.

"Well, I love you the _mostest_," he grinned stupidly, taking in her scent as he let his nose rest on her nape.

"The 'mostest', huh?" She drawled, smile fading into an expression which was neither serious nor playful, but somewhere in between. "_Well then why don't you show it?_" She whispered in his ear and drew back, knowing and used to the passion with which he'd accept her challenge.

Tenderly and carefully he wrapped his arm around her body, claws sheathed to expose soft paws as the two of them tussled slightly… his masculine form, however, was more than able to overpower her petite self. He found himself on top, pinning her to the ground… his heart beat wildly, and he knew that hers was doing the same. Alas, he was… excited… to be with her. It was an excitement he'd never felt while interacting with anyone else, one which he'd never experience with another. Already the back of his neck was prickling with sweat.

But as eager as they were to begin, he knew there was one more thing he wanted from her… lest he forget it in the heat and spur of the moment…

"_Tell me something good, Uru_," he whispered, before leaning down and nuzzling her neck. "_Tell me the good news_."

"Huh…?" She moaned softly, as though distracted from what he was saying. A pleasurable smile crept across her dazed face. "Oh, yeah. _Our little surprise_."

"Ahadi, I'm…" she paused, the moment taking her breath away. It was one more word, yet she hardly knew what to say. The words simply caught in her throat along with her breath as she looked upon his powerful figure.

"_Gorgeous_?" He whispered, his muzzle creeping closer to hers in anticipation.

"_No. Ahadi. Pregnant."_

Everything stopped. The king's eyes widened briefly, and for a moment, she feared she'd said something wrong. There was a deadly silence in the expanse of the otherwise empty cavern… and then he beamed with one of the biggest smiles she'd ever seen on his face. He fell upon her in a hug, arms wrapping around her and nearly crushing her in spite of himself.

"Oh… Ahadi… I… I thought that you were mad—"

"No, _no!_" He chortled a deep laugh, its warmth and the softness of his chest as he pressed her wrapped her in a gratifying aura. "How did you find out?"

"Around the time I got sick, Rafiki checked to see what was wrong and afterwards he said I was pregnant, too."

She looked down instinctually at her stomach, though at this point it was barely swollen with child and not obvious enough to be noticeable. Yet already she knew… she could feel the little lion growing inside her, a beautiful soul contained with her own inside her body. An individual, already unique and distinct, being nurtured in the womb. It was a mysterious process, and one which she'd always taken so much delight in.

"I don't know why, but something tells me it's a girl." She rubbed her stomach with a dark paw, the crook of a smile on her face as the father watched onwards in awe. "I already thought of naming her Vitamu. Is that alright?" She looked up at him, waiting to see the reaction on the ecstatic face inches from her own. Already all of their other problems were forgotten.

"_Is that alright?_" He echoed, pressing his muzzle gently into her neck, eyes closed in perfect happiness. He would be a father again… this time of a girl. A single, little girl. "It's perfect, Uru. But I want you to know…"

She looked up at him, attention rapt on him.

"I already love this Vitamu of ours. She'll be lovely. Now let me show you _just how much I love her mother_…"

The lioness smiled, and their passion began. The peak of a relationship and the joy of all the nights they spent together. It was idyllic in a way—if nothing else in the world, all she wanted was him and her children. Their little family. Apart from the kingdom, apart from the royal responsibilities and the fame and the glory…. Inside the den, King Ahadi was just Ahadi, and the princess was just a lioness.

_His lioness._

She could imagine nothing more perfect in the whole wide world.

A shame, then, that it all ended. For their sweet little daughter—their little _Vitamu_—was never meant to be.

* * *

><p><em>My son…<em>

The black lioness prowled around the outskirts of the Outlands, the thin veil between abundance and destitution that every indigent around had witnessed. The ordure of the world had been dumped on them, fleeting fortune had turned her face elsewhere. They were luckless, and abandoned in the gutter. Left to die and rot.

Her son, too, had been left after his death to wallow in indignity. She risked everything to bring his body back. And for what? A burial. He'd died for nothing.

One down. Surely two to go, if she didn't act soon. She had to protect her family, her ragged little pride somehow. They were under her wing… but she couldn't do it alone.

_Spirits help me…_

Her thoughts continued on the path of vengeance, one she'd mapped out with her spare hatred. There was much of it contained within her heart, which had grown as putrid and black as her mussed coat.

_Even if I have to tear the whole damn kingdom down, if I have to kill every beast within its bounds, I will do what I can…_

Her mind reeled, her poison dark eyes narrowed in the night. Her tread was light, but her purpose made them heavy.

_I will settle the score, my son._

* * *

><p><em>Yeah, so... I thought it would be good to write a flashback with Ahadi and Uru because it would provide a general view of what was happening around that time (for the basis of later flashbacks), and also because they're two very underdeveloped characters in this fandom who don't get a whole lot of attention. People seem to hate Ahadi especially because they assume he was a bad father, and although his relationship with Taka is already strained at this point, I wanted to kind of give him a chance with you guys and show he's not all bad, even if he kind of has anger issues. xP That way there's context later.<em>

_So, Scar and Mufasa would have had a sister, but she's not around because... *dun, dun, DUNNN* she was never meant to be! Not going to say anymore, future speculations as to what happened to her or to the family in general would be appreciated as always. :]_

_Last part was added in last minute to keep it interesting. Should be pretty obvious who it is. Let me know if you liked it (and this chapter and what you thought of it)._

_Oh, and Zamani. Let's give Zamani some love, too. Who's the lioness she invited over?_

_Mil gracias, amigos. :)_

_~Twin_


	38. Troubles of the Heart

_**A/N:**_

_I'm going to be pretty prompt this time. Apologies for: 1) taking a long time to respond to PMs/review requests/etc, 2) posting a ridiculously short chapter, and 3) uhh... I guess just the first two. School is in for me (as I believe I mentioned), and I've just been busy with other stuff. It may be a few more days before I come back on and get caught up - I pretty much just polished/edited this chapter to give it to you guys, and as it is I can't stay up much longer._

_So yeah, it's short, but it's better than nothing for now. I think it's actually one of my better ones. Hoping you guys enjoy - since I didn't say anything last time, consider this the 1.5 year anniversary chapter. :p_

_Two more things: _

_1 - As I was writing this segment, I was listening to an album I'd never heard before (_Meteora _by Linkin Park), and as I was writing a passage I realized that what I was listening to fit _*exactly* _with my words - the mood/tone, the words/themes... everything. Kind of scary. o.o I've adopted it as the theme for one of our favorite characters. :p You'll figure out who. For the full effect, look up "Easier to Run" by the aforementioned band and listen to it as you read this chapter._

_2- There is a poll on my profile. A few of you found it last chapter without my saying anything, but if you haven't checked it out yet then do click on my name and take a look. The question is "Should Trampled be illustrated?"_

_Granted, I'm still experimenting with digital art/fanart, but I think it would be good practice, and if enough of you want it... well, then you'll get it. So far one person has voted no (not sure why...? xD), but several more have voted yes, which leads me to believe the reaction is positive. If I get 10 or 15 people who want it, then I'll see what I can do. It may take a while, and will probably be done after the story is finished... but if you'd like to see images then do vote as such._

_Reviews. :p_

**_Danielle: _**_You're first today! Have fun, dear. :D_

**_pokeking95: _**_Dang, it's been, like... two weeks since I sent you a message. o.o Apologies, as I said... Anyways, yes, a schism within the hyenas would have been interesting, but it would, as you astutely noticed, detract from their role and just make the plot too complicated. I mean, I could've, but I probably would have planned for such a big event and had a reason for both sides to exist/oppose each other and blah blah blah..._

_Yep, junior year started. Whoooopeee. lol Thanks for the nice words. :] We had to read An American Childhood by Annie Dillard - a decent book, even if I didn't like the work associated with it. Speaking of stories, how's yours coming along? ;o_

**_IronicSnap: _**_I know, you guys knew nothing of Nira. xD But I noticed that, because for some reason I intentionally avoided saying anything about Shenzi's mother. I didn't really have a reason for making Zamani her aunt at first, but then I figured that there was really no reason to mention the mother since that would detract from the aunt or something. Maybe. I don't remember the reasoning - it was forever ago. :? But now that Shenzi's gone, I figured that revealing Zamani's sister would maybe help augment your understanding of her mental state._

_And yep, you got it! Scar crawled out of the tree to meet the hyenas (who totally love him now) to help assist in the destruction of his brother's kingdom. *high-five* No one else guessed that, so it stands to reason that you're the astutest of everyone. XD_

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_I was really worried that the Ahadi/Uru scene was going off on too much of a tangent. Glad to hear you liked it. :p Interesting theory there, too. Yes, the family does kind of have a "breaking down" and it involves Scar/Mufasa and their mother/sibling. *not saying any more*_

_What do you have against Zamani? xD lol_

**_BlackLouie: _**_Thanks! I hope you keep reading. :)_

**_mom: _**_I honestly don't know. But like I said before, most fanfic writers are girls, and girls tend to like smexy things. So it's hard not to get an inkling (I didn't get intimate, though. Bleh.). Oh, fanfiction... -.-_

**_Aweosmeness4eva: _**_Thanks! :D Hope you like the chapter. Clarification: the cub she was pregnant with was a separate, third cub - Vitamu, Scar and Mufasa's unborn sister. Hope that clears it up, though if I ever confuse you feel free to ask questions. I'd be happy to answer. :]_

**_TheBreekachu: _**_Hey! :) Yeah, I guess it would have been nice if Scar had grown up with a sibling (other than Mufasa) who he was close with and didn't have to compete against. :p And yeah, this story seems to have a knack for making people sad... sorry for that, I guess. xD And yes, it was Usiku. You'll probably figure out what happened to her son next chapter. :D_

_PS Whatever happened to _your_ story? :p Correct me if you updated and I didn't see it... but I am curious._

**_Night-Waker: _**_Sure, go for it! And I kind of agree... I mean, it'd be pushing it to even make a passage with Nala at this point (I'm planning on giving her a main role in the next story, to appease the people - including myself - who wish she'd been in this one), but T&P would really just be... needless. I mean, Simba died in the first chapter, and he's the only reason they're in the movie. xD_

_Glad you liked the flashback! Interesting theories there. :p One of them is the right idea, but I won't say which one. Sorry. xD Keep reading and you'll find out._

_vvvvv I'm ready. What about you? vvvvv_

* * *

><p>"N-No. It's not true."<p>

Those were the first words which left the poor young lioness' mouth. Her head shook, her limbs quivered… it was like staring at an apparition. And the fact that many pairs of eyes were fixed on her shrunken form did little to ease her tension.

"I-I-It… no, it can't be. You're dead."

The lioness came closer, fixing a warm, solid paw on her shoulder. This wasn't a ghost, nor was it a figment of her imagination. This was a living, breathing lioness. Her mind and her senses assured it so, beyond the shadow of a doubt. But her heart was stubborn—her heart which had long since been torn asunder. Oh, she'd tried to pick up the pieces, tried to stitch the wounds all back together to form a working, beating, _feeling_ apparatus. But it still hurt inside, with sharp pangs assailing her no matter how much she tried to escape the injuries of the horrid past, no matter how hard she tried to look forward to a hopeful future in light of her youth and in spite of the pain. Alas, a torrent of terrible feelings came up at even the _thought_ of… what happened.

"No. You're dead. I lived and you're dea—"

She couldn't even finish her sentence, a sharp sting piercing her chest and squeezing out the well of tears dammed up behind her glossy green irises. She closed them promptly, hid them from the rest of the world… and instinctively pressed her wet eyes into her foreleg, where she could freely let the moisture loose without having to witness, in her shame, the shocked reactions of the cruel world outside. The one which had seemed sweet and nurturing in her youth… but alas, that was only a mask. No matter how much she tried to pretend, this was its true face—that revelation had come to her already; it had recurred ever since the accident. In fact, it still haunted her, still came back to show its passive ruthlessness from time to time. The true color of the earth was red with the blood which stained it. The sky was dark with misery. All that changed was the filter on the lens, the occasional lightening of the surroundings… which would plummet back into darkness just when her eyes had adjusted to it.

She hated these moments. Just when she thought she'd escaped it. … And that cursed paw never went away from her shoulder.

"Nyota…" the lioness whispered, her voice like a devious serpent whose fangs could inject agony into her heart. "…Nyota, it's me. Remember? Your best friend… Malaika…"

"No," she continued to plead, the irrationalities spewing forth on a consistent loop. A record scratched and marred beyond repair. "No, you're dead," she repeated again, "you're dead and this is a nightmare. You died. Please… please, stop."

The other lionesses looked on, expressions of sympathy and shock and confusion on their faces. Was their young huntress… from the _deserts_?

Alas, this Malaika they didn't trust, nor did they believe… but Nyota… with her, they could _almost_ swallow it—_surely_ she wouldn't lie about something which so obviously pricked a nerve, after all. Wasn't it right to think so? And what of the weeping? What did she have to cry about? What was wrong?

Whether they knew it or not, each of them was probing the internal bank of their memories, trying to recall what they knew of Nyota's sudden appearance, her acceptance into the pride, and anything concerning her past… but they all came up empty. Whatever had happened, she never talked about it. Mufasa had never asked, either: she had simply shown up, thirsty and starving and completely alone, at the earliest stages of adolescence. Judging her as a possible threat hadn't seemed necessary, and reviving her and keeping her alive seemed far more important than the whys as to her arrival.

She was a cub. They'd assumed she was innocent—the king wouldn't turn her away, and that was the end of the matter. Now, however, her background was resurfacing, and they found they knew nothing about her, where she'd come from, what had happened to her…

Naturally, they were curious.

"Nyota?" Mufasa queried, attracting the attention of the whole pride as he voiced the question they were all surely asking, "do you... _know_… this lioness?"

"Yeah," another interjected, "did you live in the desert? Did you live through the attack on the main pri—"

"_No_, of course not, Malai. All those lionesses _died_," a second interrupted sharply, the asperity and the cluelessness of her corrective tone stinging Nyota despite herself. That lioness had no idea. None of them knew _any _better. But it was still anguishing to be locked up for so long, not a soul knowing who you were, where you had come from, why you were truly there…

"No, I… Yes. I-I mean no, I don't understand…" she looked around, the pain in her green eyes more apparent than any they had ever seen from her. And then, suddenly, she broke. "Just _stop_! Leave me _alone!_" she pushed past several of the lionesses, her eyes wrenched shut as she bounded away. Where she was going, they didn't know… anywhere but there was preferable for her.

They all stood for several moments, dumbfounded and confused. Hazizidi's—or, for the sake of her trickery, Malaika's—pale form shifted its weight forward, body instinctively pooling its energies and preparing itself like a flexible collection of fluid, a rainstorm intent on following the other young lioness. But Nyota wouldn't have it, for she couldn't deal with the rain. The rain which drowned out her happy, sunny days.

Alas, her intent wasn't to cloud and blot out her sunbeams. She genuinely wanted to comfort.

Besides, at this point, she _had _to…

"M-maybe," her harsh voice rasped and broke through the oppressive silence, "maybe I…" she gulped diffidently as the eyes of the suspicious lionesses were instantly drawn to her, little reflective magnets gleaming with derision and, even in their darkened and grudging forms, reflective light. How dare she upset their young huntress so? "Maybe I should follow her…?"

It was more of a question than a statement. Mufasa took it as an appeal to his authority, and thus pursed his lips in thought.

"Go."

That was all she needed: that sharp bit of consent was like a snag cutting through the invisible leash clutching her nape. She loped, loose, up the hill and after her 'friend'.

She wasn't, really, her friend, or even her acquaintance; in fact, she'd never seen Nyota before in her life. If it weren't for Usiku's complete confidence in her existence, plus the odd scrap of knowledge she had about her—apparently dug from some unknown crook of history via the leads of some shady informant—well, she didn't know what they would have done instead. The tar-hued lioness had her ways, and a plan for her newest member. And so she'd come to Mufasa's pride, this now brooding and distrustful but very close group, in apparent earnestness. When Nyota had pricked her ears and responded to her name, Hazi had been visibly relieved.

The lioness hadn't, however, expected her actions to provoke such emotion, and that in turn struck a real, genuine response up in her own heart. For despite her mission, and her loyalties, she wasn't malicious. She was just a stray, a lost rogue blown around the desert in time with its capricious winds. Cast that way by fate, she had ended up on Usiku's side of the line in regards to their battles.

In light of this, she felt truly sorry for the distraught lioness despite her position with the opposing side. The thoughts she articulated were false, as they had to be… but the emotion was bona fide.

Her footsteps crumpled the young, budding shoots of revived grass. Nyota looked over with gleaming, tear-stained eyes; her gem-green irises contrasted bitterly with the red fringes circling her orbits… a clashing array of colors which belied her weeping.

She appeared to calm slightly. Hazizidi, as her alleged long-lost friend, spoke.

"Nyota, it's me," she whispered, again trying to pry the young huntress out of her sadness. "Malaika."

The lioness didn't appear to hold any particular qualms with that statement anymore, after it'd been repeated so many times. Her sense of evasiveness could not outlast her natural curiosity, and to her momentary ally's mild relief, she mopped her wet face with a paw and sniffed delicately.

"… I know. I thought… thought you were dead." She averted her gaze, looking downcast. Her lips were pressed together tautly, ears drooping in apparent laxity like soft, withered flowers.

"I noticed." There was a twinge of impatience despite herself, an emotion Hazi quickly suppressed and then extinguished. She swallowed, hating to lie and hurt her more… but alas, she didn't know what _exactly_ she'd been through. Just the vague details, thrown together into a story that was just enough for the plan to work, even if the entirety of Usiku's seemingly far-flung schemes were hung upon tenuous supports, snug inside a small loophole the ragged sister pride could only just straggle into. "It's just… been a long time since it... since when…"

Her throat tightened both in sadness and common sense. She knew not to continue farther than that.

"Not long enough, it seems," Nyota picked up her dangling thread with a surprising quickness… an uncharacteristically morose quickness which was devoid of humor. And then, the sort of question Hazi dreaded: "did you ever find your brother?"

"No."

That was the only safe answer. She continued, drawing off of what little she knew.

"He… he disappeared. What of yours? Did you find the one you were looking for?"

"The moon has yet to guide me to him," she responded, not missing a beat as her native, desert-oriented faith—something she shared both with the real Malaika and, distantly, with Hazi—shone through like the orb itself. She paused, letting a sigh escape her weary figure… "All it gave me was this. I'm blessed with my new pride—I really am, thank the spirits—but they don't understand… I suppose you're the only one who does. How did you even survive?"

Hazi groaned vaguely, as though in thought. She wasn't _really _Malaika, obviously. Thusly, she wasn't sure what the lioness by that name had been through; how or if she would have survived remained a well-kept secret. Being vague was her only option, and she shrugged her shoulders to help hide her in the midst of ambiguity.

"Err… The same way you did, I guess."

Nyota was too beaten up inside to foster any suspicion—or even much attention—toward her. For a long moment she was silent, the crease of her lips forming a straight, even line. She lay dormant in thought. No noise escaped her oddly pensive figure for several terse moments, and when she did speak, it was in a sad tone that didn't seem to fit her normally sunny outlook.

"If you can call it surviving." Her face was pinched with traces of melancholy, like a shriveled fruit. But as Hazi continued to watch, Nyota's mouth suddenly puckered and twisted, as though she'd tasted something acrid, and the timbre of her speech became thoughtful. "Were there any other survivors besides us? Did you ever… _find_… my—"

"No. I never saw them."

Again, the only safe answer, for it was better that she say no and be wrong than say yes and duly welcome a barrage of questions. They both would have liked to think that the remainders lay out there somewhere, but if they did exist, they had obviously kept themselves well-hidden from Nyota's scrupulous gaze.

"We both lost so much, so _many_... But I'm glad I found you. I thought they were gone—all of them."

"Yeah," she conceded in agreement, looking at her paws with shifty, nervous eyes. That was all she could do: the rest of her mind drew a blank, which manifested itself as a soft silence. Yet anything to puncture it would have been preferable, and so it was that she voiced one question. Something which had haunted her all along, but unlike the truth of the tragedy, could be expressed under a veil of sympathy.

Hazi cleared her throat.

"Does the whole thing… does it… still _bother_ you?"

Instantly she withdrew, almost regretting the answer to her obvious query. But Nyota's face was pallid and her gaze lay in a trance of emotionless stolidity. The lioness' eyes were unusually cold, her perennial happiness extinguished as she looked out at the horizon harshly.

"… Every. Day."

There was a pause before her interlocutor spoke the words which only came natural to a fellow being: "I feel for you."

Nyota sighed, a long and weary sound which highlighted her sorrow. The sorrow she so hoped to escape, but had entrenched itself in her so deeply she wasn't sure if she could ever escape its tendrils.

It was unfortunate. She tried her best. But sometimes—more often than not, in fact—that simply wasn't good enough. Nothing lasted forever.

Peace, least of all.

_So do I._

* * *

><p>Deep in the expanses of the empty, barren desert, where the wind and the sand were everlasting and timeless in their antiquity and persistence, a young lioness cub lay in the shifting dunes at night. The stars shone on the gossamer surface of the dusty earth, washing the buckled floor of the desert in a soft-edged light. It would have been a beautiful sight—if indeed the cub could have seen it.<p>

She was buried under several feet of the substance.

As it was, she had been a cub many moons ago, too… but death is finality, and its ends are permanent and everlasting. It stops the whirling hourglasses in a way that life never could. In a way, death was the ultimate justice, the ultimate end, the finish line which permanently defined the form of its victims' bodies. There was no more aging, no more sense of time passing.

Mortality was the ultimate immortality. Ironically enough, she would remain a cub forever, though she was long since devoid of the innocence of such a state. Being dead, of course, had its drawbacks. But she'd been good, and like all good cubs, she was nestled between the rest of her dead family members amongst the stars. The moon shone and looked down upon her grave, where her corporeal self lay separate from her spirit in a constant state of rest, even despite the still pools of black crusted blood and the slit which lay between the smooth curves of her ears, the sharp protrusions of her mandible…

There was no pain for her anymore. She was whole and complete in her soul.

Yet this body—the real Malaika, long since lost to the world—would have rolled in her grave: one small, last reflection of her spirit above. For it was already clear that the ethereal part of her was not pleased.

Far below, in the cruel world she had once known, an imposter named Hazi was sullying her name. And down under the dunes, hundreds of feet away, a lone and buried body twitched itself in shame. There was almost nothing she could do, even though she desired nothing less than screaming out the truth to the conscious, breathing, _living _world. But only so much lay within her power.

All she could do was give her friend a blessing, and promise to watch over her. For somewhere in her shining, clairvoyant eyes lay the knowledge of the future disasters to unfold very soon.

"May the spirits guide you and your pride, Nyota. _Mwezi__kuwa na wewe_—danger lies right around the corner."

* * *

><p><em>May the moon be with you - danger lies right around the corner.<em>

_Thanks this chapter go to Google Translate. :p_

_Name of filler lioness:_

_Malai (not to be confused with Malaika xD) - creamy_

_Now we know a little but more about Nyota. Any ideas on what role she will play in this story? Expect to find out in a few chapters, but until then your guesses are appreciated - not just for my amusement, but also as a form of personal feedback which will tell me how well I'm masking/revealing information. Sometimes I do base things on what you say to me._

_So don't be shy! No tengan miedo que cometan errores. :p It's not a big deal._

_Until next chapter, have a happy Friday! :)_

_Twin_


	39. Those who Lie with Dogs get Fleas

_**A/N:**_

_Hey everyone. *waves silently* What's up?_

_I don't really have much to say... I kind of took a short break from this story, which is probably why it took so long. I think that was the right choice, as I now have the rest of the plot nailed down and all the issues I had with it ironed out. This includes a new(!) development inserted (seamlessly, of course) towards the end which I really think will surprise you. Hopefully. Anyways, __I think you all will like the twist. New estimate for final story length is 50 chapters! That's right, it's not that far away. ;o_

_Reviews._

**_pokeking95: _**_Yeah, I always feel kind of stressed between all the stories I'm supposed to be writing/am going to write, and things I want to work on, and a career I want to pursue, and college and blah, blah, blah... -.- Plus high school eating up like six hours every day for no reason. Pah. High school. blarghgnrenlejngonrehreenrwla *mashes keys randomly* Whatever. I don't care._

_Oh, and congrats on your first two stories! I feel honored to have been the one to finally coax you into publishing something. :P I faved them, of course. Need to review. And I loved the twist you put on the one with Button... totally unexpected. "EAT IT NOOB! DOES IT TASTE GOOD? DOES IT? ...FAUST-BUCKING DAMMIT!"_

_Total XD moment._

**_IronicSnap: _**_Yep, yep, you are astute indeed. But let's not divulge any secrets now... *shhhh* ;p And yeah, Hazi isn't really meant to be an inherently *bad* character, she's just a sketchy stray (hence her name) and a weak lioness for Usiku to manipulate. She just follows her new leader's orders, so she's not really the culpable one, but she's still involved nonetheless. :P_

_You'll have to see what she does._

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Ha. Yeah. School. I can honestly say it's not as bad as last year so far, but that's really not saying much since almost anything would have been an improvement over that... thing... the-year-that-shall-not-be-named. That already-half-forgotten space of wasted time that occurred between 4 and 13 months ago. That one. It's better than that one. _

_*ahem*_

_Anyways, glad you liked the chapter. You'll find out what happened to the Desert Pride soon, though I can't promise you that it will be pretty. :(_

**_TTJGWLS: _**_Aww, no problem, dude. That happens to us all sometimes (I, in fact, had a recent scare with my computer not starting... erghh... it's just so weird because this thing has not had any major problems in the 3.5 years or so that I've had it. So I hope it doesn't start having issues soon)._

_In any case, no pressure. You'll read it when you read it. :]_

_ **Mr. Black Op**__: Glad you liked it! I hope you keep reading. :D_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Yup. I feel you. e.o That's a good point about Zira and Mufasa, though! How weird would that be? XD lol In any case, I can say with certainty that Nyota does have a role to play in this story, but as to whether or not she will be able to discover Hazi's identity on her own or stop Usiku's plan in time, you'll have to see for yourself. ;p_

**_mom: _**_Yeah, that was a fun trip, wasn't it? It was nice to see you again. I'll probably end up missing that place. :/ *le sigh*_

_So... this one was supposed to be a two-parter (with this being the second part), but I didn't want to put it off any longer. The order is switched around a bit, but in this case it's negligible as this chapter is a flashback to Ahadi's reign again. :3 Enjoy as always. _

* * *

><p>Back in the time of the long and vicious drought, the days were long, the sun was merciless, and the heat was intolerable. It affected the land and blighted it from all sides, drying up the plants as they silently, uneventfully withered away. The grasses turned a dull, mustard color, before the stalks dried into wispy brown heaps and died. This was to say nothing of the Outlands, which lay dry and barren to the north.<p>

Gazelle starved; many trekked well across the territory of the Pridelands in order to find a small spot of green grass. The squabbles were cacophonous, with many animals being bunched together into a sickeningly tight, smelly space. They trod over each other, they fought and bit and kicked… And the predators that lived there had an even worse time.

The rains had not come yet. Many animals were moving miles to find a source of water, as the sun had all but dried up most of the puddles and reservoirs which normally flowed freely and naturally throughout the landscape. The brawling rivers were now sedate, and the lakes hung low in their beds, the surrounding rims of striated rock hinting at how much higher the liquid once reached and just how severe the drought was becoming.

Some of these lines were several feet above the current table.

For the most part, the only major source of water left was the waterhole, a formerly abundant and crystalline spring whose waters entered and exited through healthy streams. But the dead vegetation had clogged these weakened waterways, and inevitably the lake grew stagnant and dirty.

Not that anyone minded. The very fact that the source was still even there seemed like a veritable miracle. The only problem lay in the penuriousness of their pernicious hosts.

The water hole had been let out to two major parties—the hyenas and the wild dogs—as a place to live and run their own communities. The source of water was necessary to support the dense packs and their many numbers. However, they were instructed to, in exchange for this special favor, share the water among the herbivores and keep the peace. Neither did this very well, and in fact the "waterhole issue", as many liked to call it, was escalating into a serious problem.

King Ahadi had not been able to find a long-term solution. He'd roughly divided the lake in half, using his claw as a marker. The predators had subsequently deepened his marks into a fully-formed ditch, which had filled with murky water from the lake, yet both were almost equally discontent with the boundaries for one reason or another.

As for the hyenas, their argument rested in the fact that they presumably had less water due to a lump of land lying in the middle of their portion. Normally covered and underwater, this muddy little island had been exposed to the hot air and the sunlight by the rapidly-decreasing water levels. Now, it was true that the hyenas were less in their numbers, but their large size and their greedy nature made it inherently difficult to satiate them.

Guards were continually posted, and for good reason. The wild dogs were omnipresent, and for the love of the spirits, they would _not stop yapping._

"'Ey, 'ey."

Spirits have mercy on those hyenas' souls.

"'_Ey! _Over 'ere! Mate. Mate!"

A wild dog paced around the ditch marking his side of the lake, his paws leaving soft tracks in the mud.

"_Shut up_. I don't wanna talk to _your_ kind."

The filthy mongrel, for that was indeed what he was, sat in silence, his paw drifting closer. His unwilling compatriot sat stoic, her face perfectly guarded and blank.

"He-he-heh… hey, look. My foot is _almost _overthis _weeee _little line here. D'ya see it, mate? Do ya, do ya?—look, it's coming closer." He wheedled in a singsong tone. The larger female was unimpressed.

"I swear on my grave, I'm gonna rip ya head off."

"Nah, you wouldn't. Ahadi'd be right bonkers if you did that."

He grinned convincingly, prying the limits of her impatient mind. Alas, her severe look seemed to contradict him.

"Then there'll be 'n accident involvin' ya head fallin' off in this _blasted_ waterhole, ya get me, _Cujo?_"

"My name i'n't Cujo," he looked offended. "It's Chache."

"_Chache?_" She scoffed, a derisive laugh escaping her irritable figure. Though as it happened, this particular revelation seemed to cheer her up entirely. "Where'd ya have to be from to get a name like _Chache? _Mount Kilima-_stupid_?"

Sadly, she was unable to prevent herself from laughing at her own, rather flat joke. Even another of the hyena guards, posted several feet to her right, couldn't help but snicker involuntarily.

"Man, that explains why so many of ya are so downright _dumb! _I mean, think of it! _Chache!_"

Her companion continued sniggering, a more moderate expression on her face than the critical, mocking one of the first hyena, who was enjoying tormenting the dog on the other side of the border.

He, however, said nothing. He didn't need to, anymore. For their jabbing had inadvertently caught the attention of one certain dog who happened to be passing by to hear the exchange. Chache lowered his head diligently, eyes closed.

"_You 'ould do well to still your tongue. _You and your 'ole kind."

The hyenas stopped laughing, and when they looked up and found out who, exactly, was talking to them in such a tone, they immediately stiffened, jaws locked together in a growl which exposed their sharp, angry teeth. Their hackles stood up like spikes as they beheld the being they were all taught to hate.

"_Ulaghai_," she acknowledged him bitterly. Her companion, the other hyena guard, was instantly at her side, fangs exposed to the bright noonday sun. The smell of sweat wicked off of her glistening pelt, and the scrunching of her dark brows shielded her glinting eyes from the sun, and from the sights provided by certain others...

A good thing, as this old dog had had his day already and happened to be quite an ugly creature.

Ulaghai was, in their eyes, a contemptible figure, being even more shifty and dirty than the hyenas even cared to identify themselves. How he had risen to power was a veritable mystery, though more than a small bunch speculated that his paws had dabbled in bloodshed. He was old and drawn yet not quite decrepit, like a twisted wire with a grizzled gray muzzle. His mind was still sharp and active—his wiles had let him survive this long, and they weren't intent on letting him wither away anytime soon. As a leader, there were some prerogatives that were his, and he appeared to be faring well despite the drought and his advanced age. Slick fat still greased his paunch, and his jowls hung down to the side limply.

Chache withdrew silently before the presence of his master, a being they were all taught to revere. And so they stood, the two parties divided by the heavy lines drawn, both physically and mentally, between them.

"Ay, and where's Zamani? Not patrolling these fine waters on this marvelous day? I would have assumed the good chap'd keep her people under a slightly tighter_… leash_." His taut face reflected distaste.

"She's not here." The guard shot back simply. "Maybe ya shoulda followed her lead. Now scram. _Vamoose. _Leave us 'n peace."

"Followed her lead?" He chuckled, a hoarse and distinctly abrasive sound which grated the air around them, "I've got _my own_ to lead, you blighter. And 'tis we who'll be victorious. That island of yours won't hold you... and this waterhole… 'tis not big enough for the two of us."

He thrust his muzzle—that snout of mottled white and black and grey—over their thin line, contorting it into a vaguely threatening expression. His shaggy coat ruffled in the wind, revealing his spine… a line which showed through the skin at intervals, with vertebrae like thin, pinched mountains along his back. The sparse sinews of his limbs combined with this, giving him the appearance of one that had been sculpted from clay… a conclusion that his ruddy, brick-hued eyes only seemed to augment.

Both of the hyenas were deeply perturbed. If it weren't for his high status and the drastic consequences sure to follow, they likely would have crossed the line and shown this dog some manners. But he was indubitably untouchable. Off-limits. And he _knew _it.

Their visitors, however, didn't. When a loud bleat sounded from the wild dogs' side of the vanishing lake, it seemed to hold them rapt and attentive. All except Ulaghai; he only grimaced, showing long saber fangs. Some more damn, pesky animals with open, complaining mouths.

The hyenas—many of them, anyways, including the guards—stirred slightly, hoping to get a better look. One of them in particular had been walking by the locale and had zeroed in on the location in the hopes of assessing conditions at the side of the turf her people had been allotted. She now stood in the center of the island, which stuck out like a little hill from the calm, glass-like waters.

Though around middle age now, Zamani was still quite active and outspoken, and she had, as always, a particular bone to pick with the rest of the dogs and their unlawful, disruptive behavior. She had gathered amongst her fellow kinsmen, and then waded out to the pile of slop gathered in the center of the already dirty, dismal waters. And then she had waited.

"Please, please, I'm begging you," they heard a gazelle supplicating from the beyond the border, backing up several paces as one of the more aggressive packmen assailed him. "If not for me, for my family. Our hooves are tired—we're dying of thirst here!"

"_That's too damn bad, mate!" _The dog's temper flared, crouching in an offensive pose complete with bristling hackles and displayed fangs, "now _get out! _Go and pester the hyenas—they've got more blasted water any'ow!"

"Yeah!" Another barked. "Get out!"

"But the hyenas won't let us drink at their side," the animal moaned lamely, "please, my only son is sick, he'll die soon if we don't drink here."

Zamani's hairs bristled silently along her back, her teeth showing. She had to look after her own, and for that reason rationed out the water between herself and the other animals that came. The gazelles had reached their limit. That was all. The wild dogs, however, had no such system—Ulaghai was simply adamant on not sharing the water.

She disliked Ahadi as much as they did, but she did try to respect his laws as much as possible out of necessity. Their disregard for the rules of the land was bound to come to trouble. For alas, what Ulaghai had said was true—this waterhole was dwindling rapidly, and would not be able to support the both of them: they would soon reach the breaking point if nothing was changed and the rains did not come soon. Her hopes were that the king would find out of the wild dogs' unlawfulness and would exile them, easing the tension. Yes, she obeyed the rules, but not out of principle… it was merely survival and self-interest. It was because the deserted lands to the north were even more barren than the Pridelands, and she knew that there would be no mercy there. Her people could not be excommunicated if they hoped to last much longer.

Ready she was to quarrel with Ulaghai yet again, but to her surprise, the wily coyote—for that was indeed what he seemed—merely smiled at their visitors.

This was a change.

"''Ey, Jino, cut it out. Surely that's not 'ow we wild dogs treat our _guests,_ now?"

The smile he gave was haunting. The dogs dispersed as their hunched leader approached, his teeth showing through his taut lips. Behind his stout neck, his shoulders bristled in secret agitation; his paws clenched. Muscles bunched, expression hardening… yet all the time he was still grinning to himself, wheedling them into believing the deception of his sinister mind.

Not even his subordinates, clueless as usual, understood his cunning. Jino spoke.

"Eh, right, but I thought the rule 'as…"

He trailed off absently at the expression his leader soundlessly sent to him, withdrawing with a crestfallen appearance that showed in his grimly silent maw, his apologetic irises... The burning, hungry eyes of his superior were enough to convey meaning—he would not be contradicted.

The gazelles, desperate with want, were easily impressed.

"Thank you," the buck twitched nervously, ear flicking towards his family: an equally fraught mate and an unstable, sickly-seeming calf. "Y-You seem reasonable," he stuttered. "Just a quick drink, please, and we'll leave. That's all we want."

He paused.

"Just a quick drink," he repeated.

Ulaghai chuckled, that hoarse and scratchy sound that understandably sent shivers crawling up every dog's spine. They _knew _that sick, twisted mirth of his. Zamani's ears pricked subtly.

"Well, none can say I wasn't right generous with you, then. Of course, you can drink 's much as you want, mates. Be my guest."

"_Oh, _thank you so much. I'm eternally grateful, if I could ever express my abundant apprecia—"

"_—For a price, o' course_."

The face on the innocent, unsuspecting gazelle drooped. Alas, nothing was truly free… especially not in these parts. He stammered, looking even more nervous. His tail swished, hide gleaming in the sun. A few flies dotted his tawny pelt as he stood there, blinking once.

"B-b-but we don't have anything you'd want… we don't… we can't…" he chattered naïvely.

"Aye, are you bein' a miser with me? Are you mistaking me for a _fool_? We blighters have gotta eat too, you know," his teeth showed through his lips as he spoke, eyeing the weak calf which was wobbling, stilt-legged, under his mother's belly. Her front legs partially hid the poor little wretch from view, as he cowered and looked about with glassy, studious eyes.

His sharp vision spotted Ulaghai's exposed fangs, and the little drops of saliva dripping from them as he licked his chops as discreetly as he could. The object of his stare was rightfully terrified.

"The calf, mate. You said 'e's gonna die anyways."

The mother's face dropped, and the buck instantly froze… almost as though he were the one being bargained for in lieu of his son. Cold sweat graced his hide as he looked at the young animal—not yet a yearling and with his whole life still ahead of him. He looked at Ulaghai, then turned towards the pallid figure of his mate… before looking back at the ghastly form of the old dog a second time.

They couldn't journey elsewhere, as water was a sparse commodity and one that they couldn't do much longer without. Yet they couldn't just surrender their only child—the family hadn't walked all this way to save him just to have him die at their grubby paws.

The two of them both stiffened up.

"N-no… No, we can't do that." He looked timid… but then, after a moment, his gaze hardened. His brows came together and his eyes narrowed. When his head lowered, a long rack of spiraling horns glistened lightly in the harsh light of the sun. They ended in sharp tips that the buck would not be afraid to use.

His pupils dilated, as did his nostrils, giving him a generally fraught and angry appearance. By the time his cloven hoof pawed at the ground, it was with a primeval fury that had essentially and instinctually turned the nervous, flighty buck into a completely different animal.

Ulaghai scoffed. The many scars that crossed, hairless, around his body proved a point: he would not be idly intimidated by his opponents, and it would take a lot more than a small, weak, insignificant gazelle to scare him, no matter how angry. It had been a long time since anyone had had the gall to stand up to him.

Zamani, as a spectator, silently lauded this gazelle. It was about time that someone, as she would have phrased it, put the ol' sack of lard in his place…

Oh, how Ahadi would not be happy to find out about this.

"Kill the twerp," Ulaghai commanded almost silently, completely ignoring the gazelle stomping and jumping around nearby. He merely sat coolly on his haunches, grinning in satisfaction as two dogs leapt, seemingly from nowhere, and tackled the calf, rolling several feet with him in tow. The mother was caught by surprise, too distracted by the fight she had assumed would take place to have kept a close enough eye on him.

That would be her mistake.

The two dogs chuckled amongst themselves, barking and yipping and generally excited. It had been a long time since any _meat_ had crossed into this locale. It was unfortunate that the animal chose to let out a fuss, for they did not want to draw too much attention—however, the calf was only able to let out one terrified bleat before they slit his throat with their claws. Any noise he made after that was drowned out by the overwhelming gurgle of blood. He tried to strike feebly with his hoof, though the sickly calf was, unsurprisingly, even more enervated with his throat sliced than he had been otherwise.

Both of the killers were quick enough to avoid the mother charging at them: the buck, in his turn, had aimed himself straight at Ulaghai, hoping to skewer the coward on one of his horns as a trophy. But the leader of the dogs again showed no fear. Indeed, he had no real reason to even be afraid. Not when he had so many under his taut control. The buck didn't make it far before three more dogs materialized and, as a group, used their deftest hunting skills to pin him to the ground, awaiting further orders.

For a moment, the head of the pack said nothing. He only approached his victim, a wide smile spread across his maw. It was eerie, and almost unnerving, to see such a silent and foreboding expression.

"There 'as no need to make a fuss, mate. We dogs _always _get exactly what we _want_. You are free to drink 'ere if you choose it—we canines are right bound by our word, 'mm?"

"You monster. You'll never get away with this." The buck panted harshly, his senses and emotive strength still heightened. Vengeance and sorrow and brash, unrestrained fury all boiled in his blood, fresh and healthy and anew, as he gazed upon the slick figure of the dog. The dog who only threw back his head and cackled, a harsh and high and uniquely lupine sound which had always stuck in the back of their minds as being uniquely Ulaghai's.

"I alrea'y 'ave, you bloody fool. The king's got better things to deal with, am I right?" The twinge of a grin again twitched across his jaws, "we have to eat, too, eh? In fact, why don't you kill this 'un also? Just in case that old kipper Ahadi wants t' see us."

He paid no more attention as the dogs did their short, messy work. The gazelle would live to challenge him no more… yet when he turned to look over his shoulder, he was far from being alone and uncontested. For on the island stood Zamani, crouched and narrowed in her visage. Disgust and hatred showed in every leering feature, her teeth glinting in the sun as she stood, silently.

Their eyes locked in a fateful stare-down—the dirty dog and the desperate matriarch. There was a long, uncomfortable moment in which nothing was said. The mortal enemies only glared, one hateful glance to the other. And then Ulaghai's stiffened, grey muzzle began to contort and form words.

"And 'ere I never would've thought you'd be the type to pass up a free meal. Aren't you 'ungry, Zamani?"

"Hungrier than I'm gonna be when Ahadi boots ya fat _arses _in ta the next continent, _mate_."

Several of the hyenas cackled derisively, mentally supporting their leader as they banded together, as tightly packed as a living, breathing colony of flesh. If there was one thing that rubbed the king the wrong way more than anything else, it was the breaking of hunting laws, likely due to his foreign origins and upbringing in the desert—a clime far more hostile than the Pridelands had been in their day.

It was only a matter of time.

"'Haps I'm mistaken. Since when've you taken the _king's side_, eh?" His face hardened. "Ah well. I won't be none the wiser… You have a nice afternoon, now, chap."

His tail swished and he turned around; he turned around to ignore the barks and yips and angry cackles of the hyenas that echoed across the lake and were aimed at his back. His shaggy fur ruffled in the wind—his paws trudged through the moist mud that was quickly drying into rock-hard, dry patches under the sun. He looked indifferent. Careless.

On his face, however, was plastered the most malignant grin. The hyenas couldn't last much longer: it was either them or the dogs who would have to go. He couldn't let it be the former. And spirits curse him if he couldn't help his own people.

It was every animal for himself out here. He walked towards the still, crumpled body of the calf, still warm with the residuals of his body heat and not yet cold in death. Two dogs flanked their elder, looking around hungrily. As their leader, Ulaghai had made it clear that he was to eat their prey first. The rest would have to fight over the scraps later.

Quickly and instinctually he cut it along its midline with a claw, thrusting his nose into its belly with no further notice. There was a crunch, a smack—and when he withdrew his muzzle, it was soaked in blood. It reflected darkly on the corners of his lips when he smiled, revealing an array of grisly crimson teeth.

His packmates were greedy, and desperate. And who could blame them? Several stood closely, wide-eyed, staring listlessly at the meat as he snacked on it. They knew better than to crowd him in such anticipation, but today he didn't seem to notice. His mind was preoccupied elsewhere, on other things… dastardly, underhanded things.

"I 'ave a plan," he declared surreptitiously to no one in particular. "And 's long as my name be Ulaghai, those brutes'll do right t' remember it. Mark my words."

Several of the dogs pricked their ears in interest, still gazing at him and the meat almost unanimously. Their focus was entirely on him. Ulaghai bent down for another morsel of tender flesh off the carcass.

"W-what're we gonna do, then?"

One of them stammered quietly—a brave response for a gathering so suddenly timid. Ulaghai would have laughed, had he been able to. He swallowed quickly.

"What am I gonna do?" He repeated. "_What am I gonna do_?"

The dogs backed up, mistaking his excitement for anger. Several tucked their tails between their legs, and the one who spoke whined weakly in submission. None of them wanted him to berate them… and _none _wanted punishment. They were lucky that he was in high spirits, for in the end neither came.

"I'm gonna shake this kingdom to its core, and so help me if I'm through wit' it and they don't exile the hyenas for a _thousan' years_." He crouched down, his claws and teeth shown openly, his red irises glinting amongst spatters of blood with a latent ferocity. No, not just ferocity… _hatred_.

"Follow me, chaps. We're going t' make this _our land_."

They knew better than to mistake that grin. Malice shone in his eyes, a reflection of his soul. He would give them _all_ something to remember.

And remember they would.

* * *

><p><em>So if Zamani is a character you love to hate, Ulaghai is, ideally, a character you just... hate... xP<em>

_In any case, you can't trust people... dogs... like that. Zamani is in for a rough time, as is her pack. Any idea what they're going to do, or how it ties in with the hyena's exile, the kingdom, or (ultimately) Mufasa and Scar? Your guess is as good as mine!_

_Well, not really, since I know what'll happen. Sorry 'bout that. ;P But still, reviews are nice. Reviews are very, very nice. And I would appreciate some lovely reviews, since reviews make me happy and when I'm happy I'm motivated and when I'm motivated you learn the answers._

_SO LEAVE ONE. :) Thanks._

_Me gustan comentas._

_- Twin_


	40. The Face Behind the Mirror

_**A/N:**_

_MERRY BELATED CHRISTMAS._

_You know, I feel kind of bad because it's been (what?) two months since I updated, yet I managed to write all this chapter in two days or so... hmm. ._._

_I originally had a different scene in the beginning, but I didn't feel much forward motion and wasn't excited with it (plus my computer kept shutting down randomly so I had to keep rewriting stuff). But this spruced-up, changed version was written and everything went notoriously crash-free, so... maybe it was meant to be after all._

_This is a Scar-centric chapter, and it addresses some things that we all know to be important but haven't really been brought up in much detail yet. So yeah, expect more development soon with al-_

_You know what, I'll stop talking now. Just read the chapter. You probably already hate me for keeping you from it for so long. So yeah. Please don't hate me. I'm just a poor, innocent, sporadically-lazy/distracted person. Reviews._

**_mom: _**_Umm, the mom didn't die... I think. I mean, I guess I purposefully left it open. If she ran like crazy and abandoned her family, then maybe she could've-_

_Oh, who are we kidding? She's dead. Dx_

**_Sergeant Sargent II: _**_Nice! Glad you're liking it. Hope you make it this far, dude. :) It's a lot to read - I'm aware._

**_pokeking95: _**_Yes, I'd definitely put the estimate at 'quite some time' if I continue at this rate, but hopefully there won't be any more delays. And I apologize about the messaging. Dx You see, it's a bad habit... you can ask several other people on here. I start off messaging a person every day, and then I kind of just abruptly... stop... after a time, once the messages start getting long, and it falls to once every week or so, often longer than that. It's hard for me to focus on writing and messaging at the same time - in fact, I'm bad at most multitasking in general if I'm to be honest with myself. I don't think I've responded to any PMs in several weeks, so it's *not* just you. :/_

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Well, nobody _doesn't_ love reviews, so it's a good thing I have you guys. *pats readers on back* In all seriousness, though, you get a digital cookie for referencing Romeo and Juliet. It's chocolate chip because that reference happened to be to a line of Mercutio's. And everyone knows that he's pretty chill. 8)_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Well, considering that Kovu looks *_nothing* _like Mufasa, yeah, I'd say so. XD (Although Zira's kind of delusional and does have some... issues... so maybe she _would_ try it. lol) Well, some of what you said is right. I explore some of Scar's family dynamics in this chapter, but it doesn't have too many specific details yet. Those are for later. ;)_

_And yes, eat them all, wild dogs! *sinister grin*_

**_BlackLouie: _**_Thanks! Nice job reading to the end - I appreciate it! :) Hope you enjoy this chapter._

**_Guest: _**_Hallucinogenic flu? :/ Aww, I'm... sorry, I guess (not sure I've heard of that, lol). Glad you liked it, and get better soon! (But you know, if you don't... my story'll be here for as long as you're sick... and after... ;p)_

**_SilentSicarius: _**_Wooohoo! Another new person who made it to the end! I swear, I ought to award you guys medals or something... XD ... Hmm... well, anyways, enjoy this chapter. :D_

**_IronicSnap: _**_HE LIVES._

_No, seriously. I thought school killed you off or something. You disappeared (although most of that's probably my fault Dx). A lame waste of time, huh? Yeah, that sounds like them. Probably the mentality of... many things... on this site..._

_Anyhow, a what now? A scheming match between Ulaghai and Scar? Now there's an idea... (glad you liked him, btw :P). See ya soon!_

_[ PS This is the longest chapter thus far, just so you guys know... it should be worth the wait... Px ]_

* * *

><p>The dark lion was dirty.<p>

Scar wasn't sure how he'd come to be in such a state. But the dust covering him from his nose to the tip of his tail was obvious, and also very itchy. Insects were lodged in his pelt, parasitic little bloodsuckers. Growling, he swatted at his coat with clumsy paws, watching as they flew about him lazily and his own claws left little red lines in the skin.

There was a torpid humidity in the air, a morbid stillness that was practically suffocating him. The cracked ground was baking, stone sizzling like an oven under the brunt of the sun's forceful wrath. His paw pads were already tender and sore, and the hot stickiness of the environment was all-encompassing.

He gaped, as though he were a fish out of water, trying to catch his breath. Perhaps that's why the waterhole looked so appealing.

The dark lion wasn't sure why, in this weather, in this deserted _waste_, there would be a sparkling, crystalline spring, with turquoise waters gushing like a fountain. But he didn't exactly want to ask, either. As much as he and the rest of lion-kind normally hated the water, in this heat there could be no argument—as far as he was concerned, nothing was going to get between him and that pool, sitting there and calmly waiting for him under the sun and the shade of a coconut palm.

He leapt in with an uncharacteristic enthusiasm. May as well. Nobody was watching except for the sun, which glared at him from its high-and-mighty zenith, upset that it should lose a victim. That another should escape its smothering heat.

Suddenly Scar felt free, flying through the air, lithe body stretched and streamlined. Yet his splash was anything but graceful, wild torrents shooting upwards as his belly smacked harshly against the glossy surface of the water.

Not that he cared. He just wanted to feel the cool water soak his pelt, to kiss and caress his skin. To make him feel as refreshed and rejuvenated as a newborn cub.

The lion plunged in, allowing the chilling touch to meet him and embrace him. He closed his eyes, as though trying to pause his life. He lived, he breathed, he _existed _there, in that point of time, and felt the cold water enrapture him. For a moment, a split moment, it did.

He blew droplets out of his nostrils and paddled about awkwardly. Swimming wasn't his forte, but on this particular occasion he felt oddly at home with the water, as though he were a part of it. He could even feel the edges of his lips twisting upwards in a rough smile.

Yet he felt no cleaner. The dust didn't go away, and it still clung to him like a blanketing infection, a virulent sickness. He shook himself, trying to bathe, but nothing happened. In fact, in an odd way, it became harder for him to propel himself through the water. It was sticky, uncomfortable… but the warmth was what struck him the most. After but a few moments, the entire pool felt uncomfortably _hot_, congruous to being drenched in sweat. His fur clumped, trapping the heat as he struggled to breathe. Instantly he wanted to clamber out.

Worst of all, though, was the stench—sharp, pungent, acrid. And then, like a plague, the thought struck him: this wasn't water.

Scar opened his eyes, and the sight that greeted him sent him leaping out of the moisture and onto the harsh, biting sands of the shore without a second thought. He felt as though a serpent had struck him, a deadly viper with poison enough to send his heart skipping, and instantly he shook himself, trying to get rid of it, trying to dry himself of the wicked, twisted liquid.

There was no freeing himself of its embrace. It clung to him with a tenacious grip, tendrils dripping off of his sides to thud and slap against the hard, packed earth. The metallic odor bit his nose, a caustic reminder. It was so familiar, he didn't understand how he could have mistaken it for anything else, why he would have ever entered—

He gasped for breath, and ignored his initial repulsion to attempt to lick himself clean. The dark lion's tongue brushed and brushed at the fur on his paw, and he felt the bitter substance trickle down his throat, flowing like a river. His lips contorted, mouth puckering, before he stopped. This wasn't working.

Scar stopped and caught his breath, slowed his heart… recovered from the initial shock of the experience. That was hard. After all, he really couldn't comprehend _how_, exactly, he'd become so thickly plastered with blood, but ho—there it was.

It wasn't his own.

"What the hell?" He growled, trying vainly to cover with anger the kitten-like fear squirming, worm-like, in his gut. "What is this?"

The lion didn't know who he was addressing with that statement—perhaps it was his reflection? He caught it in his peripheral vision, prompting him to turn around and face the oozing, deep-crimson pond, and gaped upon looking at the smiling face in the oddly mirror-like surface.

He withdrew; his head shook. But the figure remained, its foreign lips twisted into a grin that clearly wasn't his own. The exposed teeth, the blank and leering eyes… seeing his other self in the pool of shed blood was enough to make what was left in his body congeal, akin to spoiled milk.

"_Catch a glimpse of who you truly are…_" he heard it lull to him, a siren in the sonorous depths of his mind, "_catch a glimpse of the monster inside you, Taka. It's always been you…_"

"Stop this!" Scar yelled back, teeth exposed and eyes betraying fierce anger, but it was as useless as yelling at a rock. His own imagination could not be tamed.

It taunted; it teased. He wanted to bat at it, to erase the image from his mind, but that was equally impossible. Rather, in his frustration, he turned away. Scar hoped to escape the burble of the brook, but the heat was intense, and it continued to speak to him, unable to be silenced. Even when he moved away, paws treading across the parched ground, he could hear it steadily echoing in between his ears.

_You did this… You did all of this…_

He stopped and stooped, countenance contorted into a pained expression, teeth bared and exposed to the outside world. That phrase had never left him. For several moments all he could do was stay there, transfixed. Until he noticed that a lioness was gazing stolidly back at him. A young, dark female. An individual he recognized.

How could it be _her_?

"M-mother?" He stammered, breathless, and sat up straight. "B-b-but… _how _did you… how did…?"

"My son," she ignored his wavering and smiled warmly, with the same soft gesture that had always comforted him in his youth. But now it was no longer peaceable: it was unnerving. "Sit down with me. Stay awhile. You're just like I remember."

"Just like you… just like I—?"

"Oh, hush," she giggled like a dazed youth, as though oblivious to the fact that he was drenched in foreign blood and probably looked like a haggard wretch. To her, he was her son, and nothing more. Why was that not reassuring?

"Whose blood is this?" He asked urgently, impulsively. As though she would know. "W-what… is—"

"Oh, it's mine, of course." Her facial expression was caring and maternal. No hints of wickedness at all. "You killed me."

"What? No, I didn't." Scar backed up, feeling like the accused. But she just sat and smiled. So did Mufasa, and Ahadi, who had somehow appeared there. They just flanked her, simpering at him, their countenances as blank and unchanging as corpses.

"Yes, you did. You killed me with cold blood."

Uru smiled; Ahadi nodded. They didn't look the least bit upset with him. Suddenly Mufasa approached, wrapping him in a hug. His limbs were chilling and clammy… as stiff as if he were dead.

"We're so proud of you, little brother. I get to be a king and you get to be a killer!"

"Get away from me!" Scar's reaction was fierce and immediate, this whole encounter touching a deep nerve. He defensively shoved the golden lion away, drenched fur bristling over a layer of hot, blistering skin. "Leave me be, I killed no one!"

They frowned, expressions disapproving.

"There's no need to yell. We all know you did it—and you will. It's written… in your destiny."

"Stop this," he spoke angrily, more out of intense desperation than anything else. The emotions choked his voice, yet no matter how much he wanted to escape, he couldn't… unless he wanted to wade through the boiling blood simmering behind him. His tone quickly changed into something genuinely apologetic; he almost surprised himself with how pathetically contrite he sounded.

"I'm your son, Mother… I… I love you…"

"And we love you, too. All we've ever done is love you. Aren't you proud of what you've accomplished, Atak?"

He shuddered, surprised. It'd been a long time since he'd heard that nickname—the same, strange twist of his birth name that his mother had once endearingly called him. It was really her. It _had_ to have been. She was trying to talk to him, to communicate. Wasn't she?

Ahadi took a step forwards, his eyes gleaming. It had been a long time since Scar had seen him with an expression even half so… bright… There was no anger in his gaze. But the words still stung, worse than if he'd screamed them in a fit of rage.

"You killed her and you ran. You ran away from us." Scar's father, the old and golden patriarch, frowned. "We missed our coward of a son. We missed you."

"No, _no! _You didn't. _None of you _did! You _abandoned _me." His claws and fangs came out of hiding, still concealed by his deadly, seething anger. It built inside, steadily, slowly… with a lethal force that threatened to rip them all apart. It didn't subside when they spoke again.

"You tore this family, Taka." Mufasa's stony face and lifeless eyes bore into him, the darkness in their depths haunting. Each word was like a pinprick… an agitating, infuriating pinprick.

"You ruined everything, my love. Why?"

"Why, my son? Why did you leave us?"

_Why, why, why, Taka?_

"I did nothing!" he cried out, practically screaming the words in a terrifying roar directed at his father, "_you_ did it! _You _did everything! You _FOOL! RRRRAAUGH!_"

They leapt back, but it wasn't in time.

Alas, he wasn't exactly sure why he'd jumped wildly at his father. But he was kicking and bucking like a crazed animal, teeth exposed, lips practically foaming. There wasn't much around him that he was aware of. Simply the pounding heat, the electrifying aura of terror and anger and sweat and blood. Horrible, simmering, sticky blood, dripping and dripping down his sides, painting him red in a deathly embrace.

He seemed to carry it with him, like a curse. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps this was what he was inside after all. His claws were out, aimed at the former king. But Ahadi moved. He shifted at a weird angle, possibly, or stumbled—the attacker didn't know. It was an accident. He swore on every great king, if they truly held power, that it was an accident. An accident, an accident, an accident…

Uru fell to the ground. The gaping red curve, the gash across her throat… it was fatal, but still she smiled sweetly at him, her eyes soft. She bled; the blood pulsed out of her neck more and more with every heartbeat. Yet his mother still looked peaceful and unperturbed.

He felt her blood, her flesh, under his leg. Somehow he had ended standing on top of her.

"Dunf feel baf, sweet," she drawled almost unintelligibly, voice muffled under his bloody paw as she lay in the dirt. "Uh know you'f orgottin me."

Scar looked horrified, but it didn't quite abate the fact that he was smothering his dead mother. It was his fault. He knew that. And Mufasa wasn't helping.

"If you've killed her, why don't you kill Dad, too?"

"He's right, _my son_. Why don't you kill me? You're obviously good at it," Ahadi observed quiescently, face still serene, as though he were oblivious to how much he was torturing his youngest child. But it was a lie. That much was obvious. He was perfectly aware.

"No, I won't." Scar set his paw down, teeth gritted tightly as he tried to dam back his feelings. Remaining apathetic was the best way to deal with the situation, no matter how impossible it was at times—if any of them sensed weakness, they would exploit it… "I won't do that."

But he knew how this would end. It was all a lie, a denial…

"Do it, Taka."

"Yeah, little brother, make us proud."

"Do it."

"Go off, dunf be shy."

"Yeah, listen to Mom. You can do this. You're a killer."

"Do it."

_Do it, do it, do it, Taka… do it…_

The voices crawled inside, a withering and debilitating form of madness in itself. They screamed, as always, like little, demanding children, until he listened. It was a part of him. Just kill them, and it will be over, just kill them, get rid of all of them.

Scar winced and unsheathed his ten deadly, blood-stained knives once again. He screamed out madly. Mufasa did too. Ahadi followed—likely in fear of his coming death, though perhaps not. Maybe it was contagious, the fear, the impulsion, the pernicious anger…

The screaming stopped, replaced with the sounds of glass shattering. His father's figure burst and broke into a thousand, a million disjointed pieces. He felt his mother cease speaking below him, her figure as cold and dead as stone. His eyes were closed—he wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to see the havoc he had wreaked once his fury finally faded.

He could only hide from it for so long.

There was no pain when he pried his eyes open, only a dull numbness. There was nothing: he was dead inside already, he was dead. They had killed him long ago. Why should he feel, he asked himself, why?

Yet still his mandible drooped, teeth exposed when he gazed upon the carnage, the rotting bodies of his family… all done by his own paws, without his realizing it. Uru lay in the dirt, stiff and decaying, ribs exposed and covered with dried hunks of maggot-infested muscle and flesh reminiscent of jerky. Her mouth was still smiling placidly at him, orbits staring with an empty gaze at their murderer.

In fact, they were all smiling. Mufasa lay there across from him, showing his teeth in a relaxed grin—Scar didn't even remember killing his brother, but the flies swarming lazily around the stench of his decomposing flesh were a testament to the grip of death upon him. Ahadi, too, was in no better a state, lifelessly beaming into the mire, the bloody cesspool he was lying in.

There was also a female he didn't know, a little girl, barely recognizable as a lion. She was the only one not smiling—in fact, her facial features were barely developed. Instead she lay placidly curled against the soft, blood-drenched fur on Uru's belly, saturated in embryonic juices.

He'd murdered Vitamu. His little sister.

Scar turned away, stomach abruptly queasy. He had the sudden, inexplicable urge to vomit. The stench was terrible, pilfering whatever fresh air the torpid atmosphere had possessed. It was all… violating.

Suddenly he was stricken with a terrible despair, an utter hopelessness he'd only experienced a few times in his life, usually in his nightmares. And then—only then—did he realize what this was. It was an illusion. A masterful illusion, spun by the same trickster who would reveal himself to him. It was only a matter of time.

The revelation made the rising tide of blood no less terrifying. It bubbled and gushed, like a fountain, trying to engulf him, to swallow him whole. Heat prickled his back, as the palm tree abut to him burst into flames and withered away, its ashes being scattered into the darkened environ.

The sun was the sun no longer. Its golden shade had transformed into that of Simba's head. There was no more sunlight. The rounded orb, the child, was grinning wickedly, upturned lips leaving small dimples in his cheeks. Two rows of sharp fangs lay exposed between them, adding a sinister undertone to his almost charming expression, as his giant-sized paws closed in, every digit like heaps of golden boulders. Two able hands that could manipulate this land, that could toy with and torment and torture him like a neglected plaything.

Scar noticed that his eyes weren't smiling. They were bitter, and angry. Oh, so terribly angry, and wrathful…

"You lose, Uncle Scar," the figure of his nephew laughed softly, "you lose."

"But you tricked me," he replied, seeing the filial corpses scattered around him, the sense of total anguish still permeating. Little salty droplets of tears stung his eyes. "What have I done?"

"You did exactly what we wanted," Simba's toothy grin refused to fade, "game over, uncle."

He heard the frightening mirth of the twisted, blurred imitation of the cub he had once known, joined by the manic cackling of thousands and _thousands _of his friends, all of them thirsting for his blood.

For vengeance.

What had he _done?_

"No… _NOOOO—!"_

* * *

><p>Scar jerked awake in the middle of a meadow that he never remembered being in. Sunset had come already—the sky was dank and dark, and even the chirping of the crickets was oddly quiet in his ears. He shuddered, though only part of the impetus for doing so was the frigid chill in the air…<p>

Where was everyone? Where was the baobab tree? Where were _Mufasa_, and Rafiki, and all those other perennially-swarming annoyances?

His neck swiveled in a vain attempt to look around, but the long stalks of young savanna grass blocked out the surrounding vistas of hills and mountains and, well, _helpful landmarks_. In all earnest thought, he wasn't even sure why he'd deigned to nap here, on a lazy afternoon in this random locale, especially since these unfortunate things always seemed to happen when he did so…

The dark lion sighed and let his head flop back onto the dusty earth, allowing himself a moment of rest. There wasn't much he could do about the fact that he was hot and sweaty and his heart was pounding besides waiting a few moments and attempting to forget, in order to allow the sensations of reality to drive back the gruesome scene he'd encountered, for the vivid imagery of his dreams to subside back into the depths of his mind from whence they had come.

Nonetheless, the urgent need to figure out where he was still pricked at his confused mind, which in turn prompted his injured self to attempt to stand, perhaps a little too quickly—a shot of pain traversed the contours of his staggering limbs, and he almost keeled over again. Already his mind felt groggy and disjointed as he squinted, looking around.

Where… where _was _he…? He rubbed his rheumy eyes, but no enlightenment came, no sudden epiphanies. He was confounded.

Then he heard the distinct crunching of a paw against a twig, and inwardly cursed. What were these damned lions trying to do, drive him _insane_? Paranoid? Schizophrenic, perhaps?

Scar stalked surreptitiously behind a scrappy bush, hoping not to give his position away. He couldn't let himself be seen, his foggy mind told him. It was one of his few coherent thoughts.

"Hello?" The creature called out, tone undoubtedly sweet and feminine. Probably not an attacker—he could partly give himself away, though he still had to keep his guard up. May as well play along as well as he could, though it would be her fault for speaking so soon. He would make sure of it.

"Lost, are you?"

It was hard to tell where his voice was coming from. The lioness looked around, but couldn't yet spot his ghastly silhouette in the darkness. She stiffened inadvertently. Just pretend he's a prey animal, she told herself. Huntresses aren't weak.

She didn't reply.

Scar smirked. She wanted to play that game? That was fine by him. He crouched down low, belly nearly trailing across the ground as he crept through the foliage, teeth exposed, claws sheathed, scapulae protruding like knives from his back and rolling gently, liltingly… it was the same hunting stance he'd learned all those years ago.

After a few moments he noticed that, as luck would have had it, he'd approached her from behind: he could just see her pale tail end moving swiftly and silently through one of the less vegetated patches, like a ghost. She wasn't so bad, herself, though he could tell that the grass wasn't something she was used to. Another twig snapped under her foot, and he heard he groan in frustration.

"Now where, oh where, did you ever learn to do that?" he queried, standing up and allowing himself to be seen on his own terms. She stopped, meeting his gaze for the first time. The lioness looked meek, almost timid, undoubtedly unused to being thus surprised. Her mouth hung open limply, and it took her a moment to form her words.

"It's not my best," she replied quietly, a hint of unusual pride beneath her respectful tone, "… if I were really hunting you, you would never know, Prince Scar of the Pridelands."

"No longer a prince, I'm afraid," he corrected sharply.

"The moon has ordained that you be the king's brother. That makes you a prince by blood. That cannot be revoked." Her speech was simple, straightforward… almost like some sort of mantra. "Have you seen Mufasa?"

Scar stiffened, claws subtly unsheathing as he whispered: "_No_. _I haven't seen your all-powerful _master_, little pet_." His tone and its accompanying growl were suitably acerbic, but somehow he knew that this lioness was something other than one of his unquestionably loyal stooges. Perhaps it was in the way she carried herself, the strong way that she spoke, however polite—but whatever it was, she didn't sound like a native. She had her own beliefs.

The lion cleared his throat. "Let's skip the niceties. To whom am I speaking, exactly, and to what do I owe this… _visit_?"

She observed his inward tension and lifted her paw in a disarming gesture. None of her claws were exposed, and she almost grinned softly… an expression that faded once she saw his flat countenance.

"I'm Nyota. I…" She hesitated, unsure if he recognized her name or not. "… I wanted to speak with you… alone. Without your brother. So I snuck you out here after Rafiki drugged you."

"A sly one, I see," he interjected pointedly.

"No, I'm not. Really. I just…"

Nyota trailed off and turned around with a harsh sigh, inadvertently revealing one of her limbs to the scant moonlight. He saw it reflect off of the gash extending down her arm, the lips of a claw-inflicted cut struggling to heal over. Part of it was already scarred—he understood the associated pain all too well.

She was _that _lioness, then. The one who'd saved his life. From Sarabi.

"I remember you." He gazed at her harshly, acrid eyes drinking in her young figure.

"Then perhaps you'll understand when I say that I've come to seek a favor from you."

"A favor?" He straightened up and shifted his weight, looking vaguely contemptuous. The request had caught him off guard despite himself, though he knew that he had to maintain control. There was no telling what such a 'favor' would be.

"Now tell me, _Nyota_," he slunk forwards seductively, though his voice was still acidic, "… what sort of a favor would an _angel _like you ask of a cruel, twisted _monster _like me, hmmm…?"

He allowed the entire length of his body to brush against hers. A test. She stiffened and swallowed reluctantly as his pelt rubbed against her flesh, a momentary glimpse of fear sparking in her eyes. That brought him pleasure for a second, though the feeling quickly dissipated—a surge of her calm confidence had returned, and if she was frightened, she refused to show it in her speech.

"Nothing like that. Something simple." Her green eyes shone, pleading, in the dark. "I'm not asking for much. You _do_ owe me."

"Owe you _what_?" He took a step backwards and smirked, no longer rubbing against her. Had she saved his life simply so she could twist his arm later? She hadn't come to him in all this time, and obviously didn't want anything _too _lenient… but he still needed to articulate his thoughts clearly.

"Don't think that you can control me merely because of that one… _incident_…"

"I didn't do it to manipulate you, or for repayment, Prince Scar," she frowned. "I did it for my own reasons—a gesture of goodwill. All I ask is that you do me a small kindness back."

"_Hmmpt, _I don't do kindness very well, I'm afraid. They don't call me Prince Scar the Benevolent."

"But you do have some honor, as a prince. You must. Just promise me… and I promise you, in return, that I'll never again ask for repayment for this."

Nyota motioned to her shoulder and paused, sitting on her haunches and looking downwards at her paws; he noted a genuine sadness in his eyes that he hadn't seen before, and it manifested itself as a gleaming shininess in her emerald eyes. "I wasa royal once myself, Prince Scar," she spoke sadly, bowing her head in a position of reverence and respect, "and I speak to you as one would-have-been monarch to another. There's still pride in who we are."

He scoffed to himself inwardly. Why was she telling him this? She was of noble blood? He almost didn't believe it when he looked at her—she was so young and looked fairly nondescript. She didn't boast any supreme physical prowess or coy mental capabilities. But she was genuine and a persistent individual… he would give her that much.

"Alright, what is it you… _want _from me?"

"Hear me out."

"What?"

"I said 'hear me out'. Listen to me. No questions, no interruptions. Just listen to what I want to tell you. If you choose not to heed it… then that's your choice."

Scar raised an eyebrow softly. He supposed that wasn't too exorbitant a request. All he had to do was pretend to pay attention to whatever silly little story she wanted to tell, and then, if she was truly who she said she was, she would leave him alone.

Perhaps he could go through with this, even if he felt that having her confide in him was an odd request and merely a waste of time. Thoughtless, immature even…

"Why are you doing this?"

"The honest answer?" She chuckled softly, though there wasn't much burbling happiness in her voice. In fact, she sounded rather sad… "I guess I just… have to tell someone. Even if it's you. It's driving me insane, I swear. It's driving me insane, and nobody even knows…"

It was the truth, in a way. At least, as honest a truth as she could tell. She had thought that Malaika would empathize upon her unexpected return to her life… but again, if she was being honest with herself, her best friend was oblivious. It was like she'd forgotten everything. It was like she was a different lioness altogether.

Ironically, it was seeing the one who she thought would bring comfort that brought the most pain.

"Mufasa reminds me of someone I once knew. A long time ago." She sighed, the timbre of it uncharacteristically forlorn. "Come. Please walk with me."

He did so, treading solemnly along the fringes of the savanna. The grass crunched softly under his footsteps as she talked with him, green eyes glowing under the sparse light of the moon. It was almost new, gone, reborn…

A part of it he liked, he supposed. In an odd way, it was pleasant to have company besides Mufasa. But on the other hand, he wasn't sure if he could empathize. After all, he was a monster. He'd dreamed that he'd murdered his entire family not ten minutes before, and he knew there to be a grain of truth in that, in a past he'd long since forgotten. He'd killed everyone and everything he'd come into contact with… he almost didn't even know who he was anymore aside from that. Why would she, or anyone, entrust any faith, any _confidence _in him?

Yes, a part of it he liked, yet a part of it he didn't understand. And to not understand… that was something he hated. He only really listened because he supposed he owed her his attention. Secretly, inside, he was wishing it would end.

"I had a brother, too, once," she began. "He was my hero."

Was? Once? Scar noticed her use of the past tense, and silently he wondered what that meant. But he didn't ask—not just because he didn't want to seem too interested, but because she had told him not to ask questions, to merely let her tell her story. He thought he could adhere to that. Not that it mattered to him.

He simply nodded, his passive way of allowing her to continue.

"He was a good lion, and he loved me. Every day he told me how much I meant to him—his little sister, the princess. And he… he was…" she paused, unable to keep walking, and he stopped alongside her out of… politeness, he supposed. "He was _the world _to me."

"I don't know much about the Pridelands yet, even though spirits _know _I've tried to adapt." Her voice was meek, but something about where this conversation was going inherently bothered him. "And I don't mean to pry… but I've heard stories of Mufasa. Things he's done as a king, as a… _brother_…"

"Like _what?_" Scar snapped for the first time, suddenly feeling defensive and unable to control the urge to interject any longer. Of course she would think that Mufasa was the noble one. "Did _he _tell you these stories?"

"What? No. The lionesses did." Her green eyes narrowed. "They told me several stories… about his training to become king, about how he helped a rogue lioness after she fell in the river—"

"And what of me? Of _us_?" His gaze was contemptuous as he thought, rather derisively, of these galling lionesses. Talking about them behind his back… talking about their king _positively_, like he was an actual role model. He bristled.

"Of you? Nothing." It was true—she didn't know what had happened between them. Perhaps he was right all along, perhaps it wasn't her place to say anything. She shuffled and looked at her paws mildly. It was the answer she thought he wanted to hear: that they hadn't defiled his name in the past. But inwardly, it only perturbed him.

"Of course they didn't." He looked away.

"Scar, listen. They didn't talk of your childhood. But I do know some things." Nyota faced him with an expression of pity, for she didn't know what else she should look upon him with. "I know about your father, for example—"

"_Well, don't mention it!" _he snapped suddenly, surprising her with his sudden… emotion.

"Scar, _Scar_," she tried to reassure him, her tone calm and collected, "I don't mean this as an attack against you. I only mean to point out that Mufasa reminds me of my brother. That's all."

"And what _happened _to your brother now, _hmm_? Where's your _family _now?" The dark lion sounded even nastier than he intended, acerbity dripping in his questioning. She looked away, visibly uncomfortable. But it didn't stop. "Did he _abandon _you too? Tell you he _loved you _and then _leave you _to _DIE_, hmmm? Did he _do that _to you, Nyota? _DID he?_"

The young lioness physically recoiled, looking hurt for the first time. Yet still she answered.

"Well, no, he… he…" Her chest heaved in a sigh, a soft complaint that only she would hear. It was useless to mope over it, and she knew that… but memories were still memories, and they hurt. Her voice was, accordingly, tangibly harsh.

"He disappeared, Scar. He disappeared one day."

The dark lion seethed across from her, recovering from his rash outburst. Something that she may not have deserved, per se, but was still indicative of how he felt.

"Forget it, this was a waste of time," he said softly, with finality. "I shouldn't have _let _you talk me into this; I knew it was a bad idea. I'm finished."

"But you swore, as a prince—"

"No, _Nyota, _I didn't. And I don't intend to. I'm not a prince anymore and we are nothing alike. Now, if you and all your lioness friends would _stop_ trying to fix me—" He stretched out with apparent laxity in an attempt to hide his deep irritation, his claws flexing and scratching the ground as his vertebrae popped softly. "—I have to return to the brother I _despise_ with everything I have…"

"You don't really mean that, Scar," she countered skeptically, emerald eyes narrowed.

"Yes, I do. Now please… with all due respect: _leave me be_."

He physically turned his back to her, hoping that she wouldn't further provoke his already agitated mood. Spirits damn her. Spirits damn Mufasa. Spirits damn all of them—hell, spirits damn the _spirits_, if the damned things even existed in the first place.

Scar looked at the sky bitterly, trying to pore over what she'd said. How did it go? The _moon _had ordained that he be a prince? What in hell did that mean…? What was the little whelp, the perfect little star, blathering on about?

"_Scar, wait!_"

He heard her whisper, intentionally quiet, behind him, and attempted to ignore her. Just blot her out, he told himself, tell her that she doesn't have a place here. The lion continued his steadfast pace away, even on his injured leg… but couldn't shake the fact that something seemed _different _about her tone. That surely wasn't just his imagination talking… was it?

"Stop! _Come back here _now!"

Alas, he may have been angry. But he wasn't stupid enough to discount the urgency in her tone.

He turned around. And instantly he knew that that would be his mistake. His peripheral vision barely caught it—the warped and blurry silhouette, the angry figure of the hyena as it leapt out of its cover in the nearby brush, its claws extended hazardously and its gaping teeth aiming straight for his vulnerable, momentarily-exposed throat.

He heard the terrible growl coming from its own, but there was no time to sidestep, no time to move out of the way. His pupils constricted, muscles bunching in shock, but he couldn't see that its eyes were narrowed, face clearly set in an expression determined to _kill_.

In a moment, if nothing were done, it would all be over.

* * *

><p><em>So, for Chapter 40, we have... more nightmare scenes (yay!), which are so much fun to write, and Nyota beginning to talk to Scar... or Taka... which reminds me:<em>

_"Atak" - "goes away" [also an anagram of Taka, obviously]_

_If you still haven't pieced together stuff with Nyota... yeah... I'm seriously going to reach across the screen and smack you silly._

_(Just kidding! ... Well, sort of... you know... actually, no. Not really. Dx)_

_See y'all at #41!_

_Twin_


	41. Angels and Demons

**_A/N:_**

_You know, I was looking the other day, and it occurred to me that I've only done about two of these chapters in about six months._

_That's pathetic. Really. Even for a quality-is-way-more-important-than-quantity person like me. That said, you're probably sick of my apologies by now, but I'll just say, as I'm sure some of you are aware, that my laptop finally did crash and fail on me. I'd owned it for about four years and never had any serious problems with it until a few months ago when it started turning off for no reason (believe I mentioned this the last couple chapters, actually). Finally it got to the point where it wouldn't turn back on. _

_I lost most of the manuscript for this story, as well as most of my other stories... plus all the photomanips and images I'd drawn. I also had to wait to get a new laptop._

_On a lighter note, lacrosse also started for me, and that season is always busy given that I also have school, and clubs, and all-day band trips, and such-like frustrati-I mean happy-fun times, hehe! (You students know the routine -.-)_

_I even went to school for a full five-day week, this first week of March. That has to be the first time since... mid-January? Maybe before Winter Break, in mid-December? I dunno. Around there. _

_I felt very accomplished. Not sure if I should, though._

_Anyways, on to the reviews._

**_Emerald dreamer96:_**_ Yep, I feel ya. I swear that English literature courses are focused on taking semi-decent books and then absolutely butchering them and staunching all enjoyment out of them until you just want to burn all books and reading in general. I mean, honestly, what's with all the extra busy work? Can't I just read the damn book and... I don't know... enjoy it?_

_I'm so glad the English course I have this year does way more essay writing and essay analysis than reading._

_And yes, Scar does have some issues with making enemies and making people hate him, doesn't he? xP It's unfortunate. PS What did you mean when you said you felt like you were missing something? I'd really like to know, especially if it's a fault on my end._

**_pokeking95:_**_ *wields scepter of awesome* You know, updating sounds so much more exciting when you put it in spruced-up terms like that, doesn't it? ;) _

_Seriously, though, I hate giving up on things. I just wish I had more time and energy to really focus on this._

_Glad you loved the nightmare, as spitball-y and ad lib as it was. lol Guess it's kind of nice to improvise every once in a while, as long as it doesn't interfere with anything later. That said, yes, revealing what happened with the desert princess and Kukosa and the Desert Pride is in the plan, so you should see that soon (not sure of the exact chapter or the timing of it, but probably at the next convenient moment)._

_And I'm glad you like Nyota. She's kind of grown on me, too. :) Just... something about her. xD_

**_mom: _**_I'm glad you liked the dream sequence. As I said, it was kind of a last-minute/experimental thing, so I'm glad it turned out like I wanted._

**_IronicSnap: _**_You know, I'm glad we figured that alerts thing out. Frikkin' Gmail and whatever. x.x Ugh... I swear, the whole Google/Google-plus thing just aggravates me sometimes. It's so needlessly... frustrating. Px *hoping I'm not the only one*_

_And you know, speaking of the chapter, the more I think about it, Nyota and Scar do feel like they're opposite sides to the same coin, at least to me. I'm not sure why I get that vibe... maybe because I always thought Scar was the darker/evil version of my own personality, and Nyota's kind of wound up as the idealized version of it? I dunno. But I wanted to kind of highlight that when they interacted. xP_

_Oh, wait, *listens* so that _was_ the lyrics from Bohemi-I mean, yes. Yes, it was a reference to that and it was totally intentional. :)_

_PS That would be one terrifying hallucination. Like... the mother of all hallucinations right there. O.o_

**_Sergeant Sargent II: _**_Welcome back! Glad you liked the chapters (and Scary!Sarabi, lol), and I hope you can join the rest of us soon._

**_DancingKitKat: _**_Thanks for all the reviews, I'm glad you've followed along and enjoyed the story thus far (and that you left reviews along the way, I know many people - myself included - just leave them at the last chapter on an ongoing story xD)! You get one of the chocolate-chip cookies for Newbies-Who-Read-The-Full-Enchilada. _

**_BlackLouie:_**_ Of course! Here you go. :) And here's one of those cookies too. Thanks for reading all the way - I know it's a lot. Dis story looooong, yeah? xD_

_(I probably wouldn't be able to sit and read this story beginning to end at this point, haha)_

**_Fusion Palace: _**_Scar quotes? That's awesome. Here's a cookie for reading all the way, and a bonus pair of cool shades like I'm wearing. B) You should also drink up on that tea... you _might _be onto something... _

_;)_

_Oh, and one more thing I have to ask... since I'm seeing a lot of new people reading this! In fact, most of the reviews since last chapter were from you newbies (I got over 20, I think!). That makes me very happy. But also a little curious since it all happened at one time. So... how did you guys find this story, if I might inquire? :p I'd really like to know._

_Oh, and be sure to enjoy the chapter, as always. :]_

* * *

><p>"Look out!"<p>

Scar jerked reflexively, partially due to the noise and partially due to the blurred view he had of his sudden assailant. He swiveled around, reflexes attempting vainly to pull him out of the way of the many jagged rows of teeth. It wasn't enough for him to completely avoid the blow—but it was enough to save his life.

The brute whirled past him, original target out of reach as the sharp rows of fangs snapped down on a mouthful of mane at the lion's nape. Scar's limbs sprawled out in an attempt to keep his balance, as the hyena's inertia ensured that she was still sailing through the air, her jaws twisting his neck and almost throwing him to the ground.

Finally the lion recoiled, negating the deadly momentum of the original attack, and regained the security of his footing. The hyena dangled limply, her mandible gnawing insistently at its tuft of coarse, matted mane in the hopes of sinking into some flesh, but her position was not advantageous and she quickly found herself tossed between the hard-packed ground and the bony edge of her would-be-victim's elbow as he pinned her to the ground.

All of this was done quickly, in the span of but a few seconds—mostly it was reflex, the lion hardly aware of what he had been doing. His vision was still blurry from the confusion, from having just woken up minutes before… and it took several moments for him to blink off his apparent lethargy and decide what to do with the hyena. He bit his lip sullenly, not sure what would be the best course of action…

"_Scar!"_

He gazed up, though the voice honestly felt as though it were a hundred feet away, it was muffled so. Again his pallid face reflected confusion, as Nyota's presence was something he had momentarily forgotten about.

"Run!"

"But," he stammered, heart pounding in his ears, "… the hyena…?"

"_RUN!_"

Her voice was more insistent this time, and he didn't argue. The panic in her face was readily apparent, and somewhere he knew that she had to have known something that he didn't. Most likely, her sharp, wakeful huntress senses could probably detect more of them coming.

_Dammit. When will these brutes give up?_

"Down here!"

She leapt suddenly and haphazardly through a mesh of intertwined brush, branches rustling as she charged down the dusty turf. The dark lion staggered heavily behind her, his vision blurring slightly as the prickly limbs smacked him harshly in the face. He nearly lost his footing on an awkwardly-placed rock, but he shook it off and soldiered forward as best as he could, despite the fact that he still didn't really feel up to running.

The two of them ran side by side, panting under the burden of the late-afternoon sun. Nyota was bristling with sweat, legs pacing in a rapid rhythm as Scar attempted to mirror her, taking long strides. He felt and heard her breath next to him, coming down harshly as they loped down the slope.

"What in kings' name was _that _about? … And why are _hyenas_ after you?!"

The lion's eyes narrowed calculatingly.

"I don't think… that's as much of your concern as… not being ripped to shreds, no?"

He said nothing more as he skidded to a halt at the bottom, a puff of dust clouding the sultry air, and turned sharply to their left. Nyota trailed him momentarily, trusting her paws to navigate through more scraggly bushes and brambles that were struggling to grow in the rocky soil. Every once in a while he would cast a glance back at her, but she was always eyeing her surroundings intently, and sometimes he could catch a flick of her ear.

"… There's… a cliff…" he struggled breathlessly, chest tight and heaving. "… Up ahead…"

She shot him an odd glance, before skidding to an abrupt halt, eyes frozen warily on the gully before them. Its edge was windswept, the slope wide and steep and jagged with sandy-colored rocks. Instinctually she backed up, dirt seeping from the edge of her tenuous foothold and spilling into the engulfing expanse below them.

As swift and astute as the lioness was, she was still, in some ways, a foreigner, and Scar understandably knew the land better than she did. Nyota gawked, open-mouthed, around her, and then offered him a questioning look. Traversing the incline—especially with _him_—would not be an option.

"We'll go right, then, right?" she panted softly, motioning with her chin towards a shallower path leading to a waterhole. In the distance, Pride Rock hung over the earth like a beacon of safety, yet it was far from reassuring, for the formation's looming height was diminished to that of a mere speck with distance, and masses of clouds and fog perched upon its stony exterior.

Strange weather they'd been having indeed.

But alas, there was no time to reminisce on that.

He nodded in placid, if not breathless, agreement, and the two of them jumped silently down the rolling path, speeding down it with an air of urgency that almost approached recklessness. It wasn't until they got to the bottom that they noticed they couldn't discern any pursuers, nor what they had been running from. By that time, though, Scar looked to be in pretty dismal shape, his paw pads nicked by rocks and his once-egregious injuries still sapping his endurance as he fought to recover his breath.

Nyota's lips pursed delicately, and after a few moments she scanned the air for any familiar scents.

The small smile that crept onto her face provided some measure of reassurance.

"I… I don't smell them anymore. We could stop for a drink, then tell Mufasa what happened. After all, he… he told me of the exile, and they were on our land—"

"We should still exercise caution, Nyota," he snapped, with some degree of irritation. "I don't know… if you've ever met any hyenas in your life. But they're _persistent_ brutes, that much is… is… certain…"

The contented expression on her face quickly morphed into a frown.

"I'll say, all of this is striking me as _mighty _odd. Why would hyenas be this far west, near the Outlands' border? … Don't they normally stay in the graveyard?"

"I don't know…" Scar's visage was calculating. "They've been bolder. They must have… must have… found out I was alive after all this time—that would certainly explain… some things."

He strode past her purposefully, clumpy fur bristling in the soft, cool breeze as he cast his vigilant gaze up the slope and attempted to spot any potential threats. As far as he could see, there were none, and Nyota _had _affirmed that she couldn't smell any more of them… and so, after several more moments, as reluctant as he originally was, he finally bent down, allowing his tongue to lap up the chilled, still water. He even let it creep up and douse his face, which felt as hot as his sweaty body.

The lioness followed suit, though her face was inquiring again.

"I still don't understand," her voice caused him to draw his head back from the rippling water, as rivulets continued dripping down his moist chin, "… why have they been after you all this time?"

She approached him subtly, ignoring his discomfort as he took a step backwards. Nyota had witnessed a bit of the hyenas' vengeful streak earlier, but at the time she had been too concerned and focused on Scar and Sarabi's well-being to make a note of it. Now it was reappearing after a long, dormant rest, and that piqued her curiosity.

"It's nothing that _you _need to know, Nyota."

He'd tried to make his voice sound harsh with asperity, something that would befit his mild irritation, but if anything, it sounded rather contrite, almost sympathetic…

"And it's… a long story," he finally conceded with a sigh, still panting. "They insist I have… unpaid debts with them."

She nodded curtly, cocked head and rounded mouth betraying her as-yet-unquenched wonderment… but she ceased her questioning, choosing to ignore it for now. Her tail flicked instead, in a soft motion towards his chest. It was still heaving quietly as he paced in the corner, attempting to regain himself to at least some level.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Scar looked over his shoulder suspiciously, thinking he'd heard something, "… but you're… you're… right." He huffed. "We should definitely… report these happenings to Mufasa—I think he'll be… considerably less than happy… to hear this news."

"Too bad he's never _gonna _hear it."

Scar leapt slightly out of his skin, and if his heart rate had slowed any since his unwilling run, he wouldn't have been able to tell… not with the way it was once again pounding against his ribs, hoping to burst forth from his chest like an insistent guest at a doorknocker.

"What in _hell _do you want?" The lion growled, ears flattened in provocation as he tried to hide his fear. "Can't you pests leave me alone… _for once_?"

Several more hyenas snickered and sauntered out of the nearby brush, pleased with what appeared to be an ambush. The lion's mind whirled as he glanced around, counting their numbers, weighing his odds in the scrabble for survival that was sure to follow…

But he couldn't shake the feeling that not everything added up.

"Nice job lettin' down your guard. I would'a thought someone so _clever _as you'da figured it out by now, but it made it a _hell_'uva lot easier for us, huh?"

The leader of their bunch, an old and wizened female who seemed vaguely familiar somehow, cracked a wide grin. Dollops of dark mud dripped softly off her muzzle, slapping forcefully onto the disturbed and murky waters. Most of her companions grouped tightly around her, their coats matted and ingrained with scratchy patches of sordid soil. Others banded aggressively around the two lions, forming a claustrophobic circle. And finally he understood.

The hyenas had been lurking in wait, frozen in that position and undetected even by Nyota. They had no reputation as a furtive or even insightful species, which led him to wonder how they could have planned so far ahead, and how they could have duped his unwilling _companion_—a lioness who, if he was to believe her purported background, had been steeped in the art of stealth and observation herself.

There was something about the way that they had been waiting there patiently, the way his 'friend' had purposefully led him down here, and the way that she, with her sharp huntress senses, had denied their presence…

But of course. How could he have been so utterly stupid? The hyena was right: he should have known better than to trust anyone, especially a complete _stranger_!

"_You!_" he snapped back to look at Nyota ferociously, fire burning in his eyes at this presumed deceit as anger slowly writhed in his contemptuous core. His frightening expression matched the intensity of his sudden accusation. "_You _did this, _did _you NOT?"

"_What?!_" The lioness staggered as though a snake had bitten her, eyes flashing between him and the hyenas, and then back to him. "W-what?" she repeated. "No, I didn't! I did nothing!"

Scar took in a sharp breath, something about that statement stinging him as his acrid eyes narrowed bitterly. Her shocked, almost helpless expression should have inspired disdain, but for some strange, unfathomable reason… there was… _empathy. _A strange sense of familiarity.

And then he remembered: his dream, his own voice. Echoing almost the same words.

… _No, I didn't… I didn't… I did nothing…_

It was not what he wanted to think about—his throat tightened in correspondence with the gruesome memories, the thoughts of those disconcerting accusations...

He growled, but he didn't respond to Nyota at all.

"You never answered my question. Why are you _brutes_ here? If Shenzi wants more, then she can speak to me directly, not send one of her m—"

"—So we're _really _behind on the times, are we? I suppose that'd be so—from what _I_ was _told_, you _shoulda_ died…" Scar caught the lead hyena's steely eyes narrow on one of her young followers. The same Scar had seen in the cave briefly, the night Askari nearly killed him…

"But anyway, since you so _dearly_ took ya _leave of absence, _I'll fill ya in. Shenzi ain't leadin' anymore: _I am._ So if ya think that 'cause she was in charge, you'd be let off easy, ya dead wrong, lion."

She grinned, exposing two shining rows of old, crooked teeth as she crept closer, limping slightly on her recovering leg. It took the lion a few moments to recognize her, but when he did, a chill of terror crawled up his spine in painful reminiscence.

Zamani.

How in hell was she still alive after all these years, these many moons of _solitude...?_

"This ain't about Simba, or that damned stampede," she interjected into his thoughts, confirming his worst fears. "This's 'bout our unsettled affairs, Taka. From long ago. You made my people a _promise_, and now the time's come ta _fulfill_ it… do ya remember?"

He shuddered.

"Scar…" Nyota's voice was wavering despite herself, yet her tone sounded deliberately and decidedly concerned. "What is she talking about?"

"Nothing," he snapped, turning to face Zamani in the eye as forcefully as he could. "It was nothing."

"_Nothin'_?! Ya flat out promised my pack a place in _your_ kingdom, under _your _rule, durin' the reign of ya father! It's the only _damned _reason you're still _alive!"_

"What?" The lioness recoiled in surprise, teeth showing clearly beneath her shocked, frightened eyes. "But… I don't understand… If your father exiled them, then why would you promise them the kingdom—?"

"—_I did it because I had to_!" Scar growled bitterly, fangs gritted and sporadically appearing from underneath his scrunched lips. And then, darkly: "I didn't want to betray Ahadi. Nor Mufasa—not then."

"Then why… why did you?"

Zamani broke their dialogue with a sick laugh, one borne just as much from the circumstances, none of which were funny, as from her own increasingly-demented and secretly-distraught state of mind. The elder shuffled closer slowly, her idle band of comrades pricking up their ears in sudden attentiveness and taking a few diffident paces forward. Yet in the midst of all this, Nyota was still gazing stolidly at the lion across from her, green eyes glimmering softly, expression pained as she earnestly sought to know, to _understand_…

She sought empathy, for the lion who had repeatedly sold out his own family, but she wasn't sure if she herself could even find any. She struggled and groped around in her spirit, tension building there as her emotions augmented and the hyena drew closer… but all she could do was sigh in defeat.

Zamani, in her turn, narrowed her eyes calculatingly, a flicker of deception glimmering like a sharp ray of light behind two glassy, reflective mirrors. She could sense Nyota's struggle, her abrupt questioning of the trust she had so readily placed in him.

The desert lioness, the sweet little canary, had no idea who she was dealing with… did she?

"He did it 'cause he's a traitor."

Scar snorted, though Nyota could easily sense the fright and trepidation in the air as the scruffy hairs on his back bristled subtly. Jagged lines marked the patches of dirt that his claws had anxiously scored, and tendrils of terror showed lucidly in his eyes; they were quickly buried deep under a frozen, heaping mass of his usual frigidity… but they didn't disappear completely.

He feared that the hyena was speaking the truth.

_No…_

"He did it 'cause he's a selfish bastard, and he ain't able ta feel fa' nobody but himself—not you, not his pride, not even his own _fam'ly…_"

_No… no… _no.

"He did it 'cause he destroys everything 'n' everyone he comes inta contact with."

_She's lying… she's trying to manipulate Nyota, like a _pet…

Scar's indignant countenance was stoutly betrayed by the beads of sweat pouring, from the pores on his steaming skin, across the thick layers of drenched fur covering him. She could see each of them glisten under the waning light of the moon, warm and dripping, despite the frigid chill condensing their breath into steaming puffs.

Something wasn't right. He was agitated.

"Why, the monster that'cha see in front of you _killed _his own parents!"

There were no words to describe Nyota's ineffably dumbfounded expression, the inexorable gaping of her mouth as the lion lashed out suddenly and ferociously, canines long and bared like slashing sabers in his open jaws.

"_I DID _NO_ SUCH THING!" _

Nyota lurched back in surprise as Scar roared brashly, a nerve-racking sound that seemed odd given his normally cold demeanor. And when he leapt threateningly towards the hyena matriarch, there was no trace of fear on him—it had been washed away in his sudden, inexorable wave of anger. A wave of anger much stronger than any other emotion she had ever seen on him. His paws stretched out, and one of them collided squarely with Zamani's chest, knocking her to the ground and briefly removing her smug, taut expression.

That was the chance the both of them had unknowingly been waiting for.

Without knowing quite what she was doing, the young lioness leapt forwards, body hurling through the air as she stretched out in a magnificent leap. It almost would have been exhilarating, feeling the cool evening air brush and caress the fur on her face… if that very face weren't hardened in huntress-like determination, soft lines creasing to form a scrunched and almost angry figure, complete with exposed fangs and a sharp growl.

Zamani glanced up, her iron countenance briefly faltering in fear as Nyota leapt on top of her, paws pinning the hyena matriarch to the ground with a wrought fury gleaming in her eyes. Her teeth shone harshly under the silver light of the moon as she bore them at her prey. And then, before her captive could negate the momentary loss of composure and bark out orders, she spoke, her voice strained as she tried to sound threatening.

"Now don't you try anything, and don't you say anymore… or… I'm going to have to do something that I _really _don't want to do to you!"

Scar's eyebrows raised, the lion himself momentarily surprised as he took a step back and surveyed the scene around them. The hyena pack seemed to be, as a whole, fiery and bristling, growling and pacing, with tacit fury burning in their eyes as they circled hungrily. Yet for all their alarm and all their snarling, not a single one dared approach as Nyota stood atop their leader, a paw instinctively resting on the old hyena's throat.

There was a tangible strain in the air, and he could sense it. For several moments all was still and quiescent, save the occasional sound from a hyena. He himself was hardly aware that his face was plastered into a threatening façade as he displayed his canines in complete silence.

One of the hyenas took a step forward, only to receive a quick reprimand from his comrades.

"You'd best stay back!" Nyota warned, her hackles bristling as she shifted her paw closer to the matriarch's jaw. It was visibly obvious, at least to Scar, that she was somewhat unsure of herself and her abilities, a deficiency that she was overcompensating for.

"Ignore the runt," the old hyena sneered, unimpressed and apparently unfazed, "she's lyin', she ain't gonna do nothin'."

The lioness' ears flattened back, and she sent the momentarily-advancing pack an admonishing glance—a clear contradiction.

"I was raised to be a huntress in the desert. Don't think I don't know how to defend myself."

There was an audible popping sound as she exposed the claws hidden in her usually soft-tipped paws, kneading them gently into the loose, ragged ruff around Zamani's neck… and there was also an audible, collective breath taken and held in by the rest of the pack.

"… Best ta stay back…" she heard one of them murmur softly, though the atmosphere was still terse. She could tell, from the glinting anger in their eyes, that they want nothing more than to rip her apart.

"I don't want any trouble…" she loosened her grip slightly, enough so that the matriarch was free to move her head. The look the old hyena gave appeared to calm the pack slightly. "Just tell us… what this is about…"

"_Hmmpt_," the dark lion's tail flicked as he stood by her side, his gaze contemptuous. "Wouldn't we all like to know? You're still trying to murder me after all this time?"

"Not you," Zamani offered a sickly grin, despite her position of vulnerability, "you're comin' with us. Alive. There ain't no two ways about it."

The hyenas appeared agitated by this statement—several of them bristled and bore their teeth. Scar could even sense, in the darkness, the presence of the female who had attacked him after he and Nyota had first had their little… chat. She was standing across from him, her gaze threatening.

"And what if I _refuse_?" He took a bold step forward, earning several warning growls. "Then what?"

"Then we're gonna force ya. Either way, you're gonna help us, as you promised."

Zamani spat bitterly on the ground, and Nyota, in her turn, looked concernedly at Scar, attempting to piece together the thoughts behind his steadfast expression. Apparently, he was even less interested in furthering the hyenas' purposes than he was in helping to betray his brother again.

_The one he said he hated with everything he had…_

Suddenly her gaze met his, two sets of emerald eyes staring into each other. And in that moment, she felt as though they'd had an entire conversation.

_Run, now… while I have her… you're the one they want._

He didn't say anything; his eyes were blank. But there seemed to be some hidden trace of regret in them. And he didn't seem intent on leaving her behind, on leaving this confrontation unfinished…

The oddest part of it all, however, was the twitch of a smirk gracing the side of his face. It lasted for a brief moment, and then, as quickly as it had come, the expression disappeared, leaving her to question its existence. They were in dire straits—how could he be so confident? How could he be so…

Oh. And suddenly she understood. The information hit her, hinting to a source as flippant and enigmatic as the cold burst of wind that had acted as its harbinger. The faint wavering of a scent on the distant air, approaching quickly and signaling change.

Hope for Scar, and perhaps Nyota, in this instance. But there were other emotions attached to the coming of this lioness.

_Oh, Zira, what perfect timing you have…_

* * *

><p><em>Sorry that it's comparatively short today. But something is better than nothing - I wanted to get it out relatively quickly so you guys didn't think that I... abandoned you... or something. x_

_I'm going to keep working on this story over the next few days. Hopefully you won't have to wait this long again. _

_Thanks for reading me. Hasta luego._

_Twin _


	42. Reflection

_**A/N: **_

_One week later and Twin is already back! Sweet!_

_(In all honesty, last chapter didn't really please me all that much since nothing really important happened, so I had to keep going)._

_That said, this one deviates slightly from the somewhat linear route of the last two chapters, since I don't like approaching consecutive chapters from the same angle over and over again. Gets boring. So this one is more Scar-centric and it takes place mostly in the past through various flashbacks and... yeah..._

_You guys will figure it out. Reviews!_

**_DancingKitKat: _**_Ah, well that makes sense! That Review/Fave/Follow filter is kind of nice when browsing, so I tend to use it too. In fact, I found a really good fic in the Warriors fandom that way (I've honestly never even read Warriors, so I don't know how I ended up in that fandom... o.o) but... yeah... awesomeness. That fic totally deserved all the reviews it got._

_And yeah, I tend to be pretty lazy about reading things and not reviewing. It's a terrible habit. xP Thanks for overcoming it - I'm glad you liked my fic._

**_IronicSnap:_**_ I know. I guess she can't stay young forever, huh? ;_; First hostage is always special, you know?_

_As far as the timeskip: I kind of noticed when I was writing it, and was hoping that enough time had passed so that I could use both. But I suppose, reading back over it, that the chapter feels a lot faster than I had originally thought. My bad._

_(PS I KNOW. I hate Google. Honestly, this is my impression of it. Google: Hi (gmail address), would you like to get a Google Plus account? Me: No thanks. Google: But you want a Youtube channel and we own Youtube now! Me: That's nice. Can I just... I dunno... get a Youtube username like everyone else? Google: Buuuuuut nooooo, get a Google Plus, we promise you won't regret i- Me: Alright, alright! Fine. I'm not going to use it, just leave me alone! __*six months later* __Google: Hi FauxGemini (YT name)! Me: What now? Google: We were wondering if you wanted to change your Youtube name to your email! Me: No thanks. Google: Why? Me: Because the whole reason I got a Youtube account was so I *wouldn't* have to use my email. -.- Google: Okay, we'll pester you later... hey, FauxGemini! Me: WHAT? Google: Would you like to change your Youtube username to your e- Me: NO. NO. NO! DAMMIT, I SAID NO! Google: Thanks! Your Youtube username has now been changed to (gmail account). Me: FFFFFUUUUUUUU- *computer explodes*)_

_Annoying._

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Meh, the whole reason I even have a work ethic at school is because... because... what the hell, I have no idea. e.o I guess because writing, for example, requires a huge work ethic, and nothing gets done without it. *coughlikethisstorycough* And I get incredibly frustrated from busy work, especially when it's boring and it teaches you *nothing*. But I guess it's just aimed at those people who skim books and have no idea what they mean. It's incredibly frustrating for someone like me, who sits there and stares incredulously at the teacher, like, "YEAH, I know what the passage means. I understood it the _FIRST _time I read it, thank you." It might be why I don't read anymore, I dunno._

_Plus when they ask why a writer wrote something a specific way, I just kind of laugh. I make the same decisions all the time; I know what that's about._

_And that's okay - no worries. Glad you liked the chapter. :)_

**_mom:_**_ Thanks! It sure has been a long two years... a lot has changed since I was a 13 year old with a little too much boredom and spare time on her hands. ;p But you know, it's a good change, I think. My writing is so much better._

**_Bamon: _**_Thanks for the review! So glad you liked this story. You'll have to see what happens to Scar, so keep reading. ;)_

**_pokeking95: _**_Hey, no worries! I know that college can be stressful. Not sure if I've ever mentioned this (I probably have xD) but I spent most of my childhood raised by a single dad attending college. And he was always busy. So I get it. lol I'm honestly just glad to hear that you haven't given up on writing - it's better than nothing, so please don't push yourself too hard!_

_Yeah, I know that not a lot happened last chapter. Px But I did try to show a little bit of the characters that might not have been obvious before (although I think 40 did a better job of that, personally). I'm also trying to show Scar and Zamani's connection so that the chase has a little more context and it isn't just a rehash of the "Hyenas-chase-Scar/Scar-runs-away" storyline that seems to pop up again and again in this story..._

_It sounds so lame when I put it like that... *sigh* The things I'll do for a little action..._

_In any case, I hope you did/will do well on your final exams! Sounds like you're having a bit of a busy time over there, so I hope (for the sake of your sleep) that all your studying pays off. :)_

**_TomMaier:_**_ Wow, well thanks for the review! Great to see that you tried something new. Guess it proves that hey, you never know... you can't say if you like it or not until you try it. So thanks for giving me that chance. :) Hope you keep reading!_

**_BlackLouie:_**_ Thanks, and sure thing! Enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

><p>He had such a great view of the past, of his many mistakes. Too bad, then, that he'd already fallen. If it weren't too late already, he might've tried to learn from them, to make amends… but as he'd been made to understand, he was far past the point of correction. In his past, present, and future, there only was—and only ever could be—an endless, streaming line of destruction.<p>

There was no point in looking to the past. It only served as a constant, haunting reminder. A burden that told him so many stories, of so many times where he had irrevocably altered and destroyed everything he'd ever come into contact with. No matter what he did, no matter how much he sought enlightenment, or at least_ some_ sense of vague understanding, he always messed up, always did everything wrong…

_Always was plunged deeper into darkness._

And while he ran, while he fled for his life, there was always some stream of clarity, as the colors of his world blurred together and his heart knocked about wildly. It wasn't a good clarity. Rather he saw and felt those emotions, burning and clearly articulated. He didn't like being in such a heightened emotive state, but sometimes such pangs assailed him, inconsolably and relentlessly. There was nothing he could ever do, no one he could ever turn to, to lessen them. So he suffered through them.

_It'd been so long… he didn't even know which way was up anymore…_

For when he did look up, the moon and the stars shone down on him, as brightly and happily as they would have done for anyone else, for any _normal _lion… taunting and teasing and laughing.

_Why don't you share in our brightness? Why, you dark little stain, why, why, why…?_

Come and play, up in the sky, they said. Everything will be okay.

But he didn't believe them. He didn't know what lay beyond, in the dark void, but if what the others said had even the smallest _grain _of truth, then he was for sure a damned soul, forever beyond cleansing.

He had always been, and always would be, the dark blot, the flawed imperfection in an otherwise smooth and coherent whole.

He'd been given life, been given breath in his meager body… and for what? Only for suffering, it seemed…

He thought to Nyota as he charged down the slope with her, thought of what she said as the adrenaline and fear swirled around in his veins. His life could have ended at any moment… was this how he wanted to go out? Was this the note he wanted to finish on?

In the end, all it did was remind him of brighter, happier eras. Of a time when he felt strong, happy, on top of world. If only he knew then… of what he had to lose… for now it was no more.

His happiness and his innocence had forever been taken away from him.

* * *

><p>He'd thought he'd been sad then. And who could blame him? Three weeks was a long time, in his short life, to be cooped up in a dark, dank cave.<p>

The only times he'd been out were for sporadic lessons with the shaman. If he'd been a lioness, he would have, perhaps, been taking hunting lessons like Sarabi… but such was not the case. All he could do was sojourn to the ancient baobab to sit through his training sessions, which were mostly demonstrations in basic medicine and some other instruction on living a spiritual life.

He didn't much mind the former, but the latter was something to which he lent little credibility or care. And although he often finished up early in the afternoon, having many hours left in the day as he strolled through the beautiful scenery of the savannah, there was little he could do about it. Sneaking away and enjoying the sunlight and fresh air was not an option, for he feared the wrath of his already-disappointed father.

And so, every day, he would trudge grudgingly and drearily towards the voluminous cavern, allowing its darkened spaces to engulf him and swallow him whole. Thus would he remain until the next dawn, with little company and very little to occupy himself with besides his own imagination.

Well, his imagination, and maybe the occasional mouse foolish enough to wander into his begrudging abode.

Perhaps the only thing that could really capture his interest, being alone, was the flicker of a sunset visible from the crooked entrance. He would watch it as it exploded into a fiery show of reds and pinks and yellows—yet the display, as effervescent as it was beautiful, would quickly fade into the dull blues of a clear, dark night.

The moon was waxing. That was good. But he still couldn't be _entirely_ happy until it was entirely full again…

"Hey there, Mr. Melancholy. You enjoying yourself in there?"

"Mufasa."

It was a simple greeting, but inside he was surprised, for he almost never saw his older brother. Generally the crown prince was busy elsewhere.

"You look sad. What's eatin' you? We've been having such beautiful weather."

"I know," he looked down at the ground, ears flattened dejectedly and his face cast in sharp, dark shadows. He knew Mufasa was only trying to make conversation, and that he meant no harm by it… but it still bothered him. "I just… can't enjoy it."

"Right," Mufasa's expression and his upbeat attitude appeared to falter slightly, showing a bit of the inner tension and stress he tried to hide, but was always feeling…

The golden lion moved to where his younger brother was sitting, at the entrance to the cavern, and set himself down on his haunches. A momentary silence formed between the two of them, punctuated by a rare, warm gust of wind. They were both unknowingly looking at the same object—the silvery moon hanging, idyllic and peaceful, in the night sky, surrounded by millions of milky, glimmering stars.

The icy touch of the stone caressed their tough paw pads, giving a refreshing breath of coolness on an otherwise oddly-warm night. It caused Mufasa to smile as he nudged his younger brother in the shoulder.

"It's such a beautiful night… so… perfect." A bit of a coy smile twitched the edges of his lips.

"Yeah?" The dark lion responded flatly, nonplussed.

"Too bad we can't… _go somewhere_… to enjoy it," Mufasa nudged him again, a bit more sharply this time. "Right?"

"That's right," he edged in moodily, ignoring his brother's hinting tone. "I'm not sure what you're implying, but whatever it is… I'm afraid I can't—"

"_Oh_, come on, Taka. Don't be such a stick in the mud. _Let's go_."

"What?" The younger brother pricked up for the first time, looking genuinely surprised, and perhaps a little frustrated. "I-I-I can't, I… I have to stay, I can't just…"

"Just what? Have a little fun?"

"_Pffft_, no," he scoffed, in mock derision. "And since when have you been concerned with _fun_, Mr. I'm-gonna-be-king?"

It was true. Normally, out of necessity, Mufasa was the responsible one who suppressed his adventuring desires, while Taka had been more playful and carefree as a cub despite his logical inclinations. Now that they were older, there was still a sharp and tangible difference in their personalities.

Why, exactly, was the golden lion inviting him out, against their father's wishes—something he nearly always obeyed?

"You know, there's only going to be so many nights like this," Mufasa interjected suddenly, as though reading his thoughts. He cast a nostalgic gaze at the stars… and something deep in his glimmering, amber eyes seemed a bit sad. "From what Father tells me, things are going to be so different once I'm king… there just won't be any time left anymore."

He let out a huge, bellowing sigh, and flopped down onto his side, his ruffled golden pelt brushing against the frigid stone under them. His giant paws stretched out before him, and his already-regal face narrowed in interest as he studied them absently.

Mufasa didn't like to complain about his lot in life—he already knew, quite well, that a dozen different animals would kill for his position. But his younger brother could tell, with a sense of filial insight, that something was bothering him, that something had provoked this strange change of tune… although that didn't surprise him at all, really. Their father had been extremely agitated as of late. As much as the king adored Mufasa, his temper had been growing short and frayed, and his patience undoubtedly had to have worn out sooner or later.

Taka himself could see it in the evenings, when the patriarch came by to check up on his sons. He'd leave a few scraps of meat for his youngest, since he wasn't allowed out, and in those moments, as short as they were, a lot could be gleaned about the current king's mood. Often times he came in moody and angry, with a visible disappointment flickering in his electric eyes and his grim visage. It was always something about the hyenas and the dogs, or finding a mate for Mufasa, or how burdensome the heat was, or some such complaint that he didn't really pay much attention to. Sometimes the prince himself became the target of another tirade, though he hadn't done anything reprehensible: he was simply the closest and most convenient object for Ahadi to vent at.

Most likely, he had directed one of these rants at Mufasa, and told him that he ought to grow up and prepare himself to receive the metaphorical scepter. Alas, for the older brother, that was how it always was, with so many expectations to live up to…

Taka felt lucky to be relatively unburdened, as bored as he often was.

"You know… I guess _one _little sojourn this late can't be too ba—"

"—_Great!_" Mufasa interrupted enthusiastically, leaping to his feet and practically stumbling towards the entrance. His paws crashed and thumped against the rigid rock, sending a _thud-thud _echoing across the empty savannah.

"_Shut up!" _Taka reprimanded him in a harsh whisper, though he was unable to suppress a laugh in light of the situation. "They'll hear us, you big oaf!"

"They're asleep, Taka," he asserted matter-of-factly, though his eyes were gleaming jocularly, full to the brim with excitement at the prospect of having the freedom he desperately wanted, but could never have. "And watch who you call _oaf_."

"_I swear…_" Taka grumbled, though his own irises shone good-naturedly, "_if I get in even _more _trouble because of you…_"

"Hey, be quiet and follow me," Mufasa leapt ahead, ignoring his brother's lonesome whispers. He appeared a little more grounded, a little more like his usual self, as he turned to face his younger sibling… "There's a cool place I'd like you to see, brother."

The golden lion leapt swiftly and gracefully out of the cave, his paw pads delicately traversing the soft stone outside the promontory as the warm wind began to ruffle his vivid auburn mane. Crickets chirped softly all around them, serving as a nostalgic reminder of the many warm and humid nights of their youth…

Only now it was colder, more biting... the rains had receded recently and the temperatures had become increasingly extreme. Pleasant nights like this one were few and far between.

Taka padded after him quickly, his feet tapping quietly against the cold bumps of the rocks. He could feel the floor under his toes, the delicate touch of the air across his rumpled coat, as they slunk around the side of the cave. Slowly the moon became invisible as they spiraled and spiraled, its lit form disappearing behind the shaded coves and outcrops reaching up, higher and higher, towards the stars themselves…

They passed Pride Rock's tip, and kept turning, kept gyrating farther and farther, until the both of them approached a narrow shelf winding around the exterior of the great formation itself. For a moment, the brothers said nothing—they only waited in awed silence as another refreshing rush of wind wove its way through their pelts and in between their perked, prickling ears. Taka's budding mane wavered rapidly, and Mufasa's fuller crown lay, fiery and emblazoned, like a flapping flag across the crest of his neck.

"W-we can't go up here… I thought the top of Pride Rock was for kings only, unless you got special permission… right?"

"Well," Mufasa replied, a great lightness showing in his mood, "I'm the _future _king of Pride Rock, and you're my brother, so as far as I'm concerned… you've got permission, Taka."

He cracked an infectious grin, and the younger prince could only wonder what had gotten into him…

"Are you so sure about this, Mufasa?

"Sure, it's fine! Just follow me, and… er… don't fall. Father lead me up here earlier and it's a tad narrow…"

It was. The rock was rough and rigid, and the shelf itself was long and narrow, twisting as it scoped up the pride's treasured home. Taka walked cautiously, a little wobbly, and planted his feet gently with every step he took. The golden lion was naturally faster, but he waited patiently for his brother, and didn't rush him at a pace faster than what he was comfortable with.

"Oh, wow," the younger prince sped up, finally having reached the flat plateau at the top of the giant erratic. "What a view."

The brown lion skipped up the last few crags and waltzed placidly about the smooth stone, Mufasa standing stolidly in the middle and staring off into the great azure backdrop of their surroundings. After a few moments, Taka approached the edge curiously, crawling on his belly until his body had reached the sheer edge bordering the floor. It was a straight, sheer drop to the ground—probably forty or fifty feet, at least. His green eyes narrowed in curiosity as he pondered the great, majestic heights of their noble home.

"Wouldn't want to fall down there," he concluded simply.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Mufasa appeared at his side, sitting on his haunches and looking over his brother's shoulder to the ground. The younger lion backed sheepishly away and sat up, mirroring his sibling. "It's actually a lot more daunting at night. I guess it's hard to tell how _big _this thing is until you reach the top…" he paused, looking up and away, "… and even then, such a view serves as a reminder of just how _small _we are."

The both of them gazed deeply into the horizon, which lay, perhaps, a hundred miles away. Neither could be sure of the distance: only that they had underestimated the span of the waves and waves of grass stretching into the nothingness beyond the edge of the world.

To them, the savannah was forever, timeless and infinite.

"We're all connected, you know," the golden lion shuddered in the darkness, a silvery puff of breath escaping his parted lips and disrupting the dark, silent air. Hundreds of crickets continued chirping below, and somewhere far away, they could just hear the mournful howl of a wild dog. "If you really think about it, under the skin… we're all the same on the inside. We've all got breathing bodies, beating hearts, and the fleeting spark of life..."

"Did Father tell you that?" Taka inquired thoughtfully.

"Yeah, he calls it the Circle of Life. But I'm sure you've heard about it, right?" He nodded tersely in response. "He told me that everything the light touches would be my kingdom one day, and I'd get to see it from here… but then I thought of you. And I thought you might like to see it."

"… Thanks, I guess," the younger sibling tilted his head, a little touched and unsure of what else to say. "It… really is something."

"I just want you to know that, even if we spend some time apart, and even if I get busy with the kingdom when Father leaves… we will always be brothers. I'll never forget about you. Please remember that… and remember me." Mufasa nudged him gently with his shoulder, making sure that his amber eyes could look straight into Taka's green ones. His message was understood.

"I'm sorry if I've hurt you, or Father," the younger brother looked down, suddenly ashamed and apologetic as he recalled the incident that had wound him in so much trouble to begin with. "I wanted to spend more time with you, but then I couldn't, and I'm sorry—"

"Taka, there's no need to apologize. Father never told me what happened, but whatever it was… it doesn't matter to me. I hope you know that. Life just… isn't the same without you here… and whatever happens, I—whoa, did you see that?!"

"See what?" Taka's ears pricked up. "Where?"

"Over there!" He shouted. "Look!"

"A shooting star!" The younger lion beamed excitedly, bouncing forward and showing a bit of his playful nature as he ran along the edge of the cliff and followed its streaking trail.

"You know what that means…?" Taka gazed at him curiously. "It's a harbinger of good luck. That star was one of our ancestors returning to the earth, to give a blessing to those of his descendants who were vigilant enough to see his return."

His sibling frowned, looking confused.

"Taka, that means we both get to make a wish." He beamed. "So go ahead… but don't tell me! He might not answer it then."

The younger lion squinted hard, gazing in awe at the thousands upon thousands of milky stars studding the great blue globe they were permanently encased in. The hemisphere circling wide over the great flat space they called home… the land of big sky and bigger hearts, of nobility and brotherhood. There was something oddly idealized about it, something vaguely romantic to enrapture his budding, beating heart—the one that lay, still warm in his youth, within his softly-breathing chest. He still believed in it, in their ideals… he cherished them, in his own strange way. And with the crook of a smile on his face, he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted.

"I made my wish, Mufasa…" he grinned, his chest puffing out to contain his swelling spirits.

_I wish… _he looked out into the vast horizon, from his perch atop the stone. … _That we may never fall, and that our bond may endure forever…_

It was such a simple wish, one he was sure would be fulfilled.

But oh, if he only knew how wrong he was to believe…

* * *

><p>It was almost hard to believe that so much had changed in so little time. A few moons ago he never would have agreed, and now here she was, waiting to remove the one thorn left in her side. The matriarch of the hyenas sat perched behind an old stump of dead, rotting wood—their arranged meeting spot—with a muzzle that could no longer conceal her happiness.<p>

And there he was. A creature dark and disheveled shuffling ominously amongst the heaps of bones, the masses of carnage and destruction. His eyes were clouded, and there was no happiness, no joy in them… only an icy coldness indicative of many moons of listless, inconsolable solitude. His wailing cries of sorrow had hardened until there was only a callous numbness, and it showed in the way he walked, the way his gaze studied his surroundings calculatingly as he defied death with every step.

His ribs stuck out from his sides, vertebrae protruding as lumps along his spine. His pelt looked uncomfortably taut, stretched around his bones and exposing with vivid clearness his gaunt, neglected belly. His entire figure was emaciated; it was hollow and sunken-looking. But if it caused him pain, he refused to show it, refused to show that his endurance was waning and his strength was fading quickly.

Yet despite how much he hid his feelings, and despite the cold exterior he donned, she knew him still to feel. Why else, then, would he have come to her, if he wasn't truly desperate?

She couldn't help but grin in satisfaction, unable to hide her glee at encountering him while he was truly in his most deprived, vulnerable and helpless state…

He knew that, without her help, he would suffer until he withered away and died.

"Ya know what I want."

Several of her companions broke out into harsh grins and cacophonous cackles, inwardly writhing with a measure of thrilling pleasure that mirrored her own.

"I do," he said softly, bitterly, refusing to look her in the eye.

"Then deliver on ya promise. Show us where Ahadi lives, where he sleeps… an' do it quickly. He ain't gonna live through the passin' of this night." Her claws glinted sharply in the sunset, as did her fangs, once she spread them and exposed them in a sickening smile. "Not if I have a say in it."

"Alright."

His gaze was still downcast and pensive, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't as though this would not be beneficial to him as well, given the circumstances… so why did he feel so guilty for extirpating the one being who had caused him _so much pain_…?

"Please," he spoke suddenly, still focused on the ground. "Just do me one favor… and end it quickly. Surely there's no need to make him suffer."

His eyes glimmered with the faintest tendrils of sadness as he gazed back up at the matriarch, showing the first, blatant signs of long-pent-up emotion in what he hoped would be a convincing gesture. Alas, it would've been enough to melt the resolve of most fellow beings… but the matriarch herself was hardened in her day, from past wrongs wrought by the same source. When she spoke, there was nothing but malice and contempt, burning like steady flames in her ruthless eyes.

She chuckled darkly.

"Oh-ho-ho… I'm afraid that I can't make any promises to ya."

* * *

><p><em>It got a little dark there at the end, I guess... *rubs hands together malevolently* Anyways, I hope you guys liked that cutesy little flashback with Mufasa and Scar, there, because chances are there's not going to be too many more like that.<em>

_Yeah, you guys are _not _gonna like me for these next couple of flashbacks._

_I'm assuming you all figured out the two characters at the end. It kind of extrapolates a bit on last chapter and what Zamani was referencing, just to kind of give you guys a bit of a sneak preview._

_As always, be sure to review and tell me what you think! I know it's not the longest chapter (or the best, most likely), but hey... it's still decent, by my standards, and it didn't take three months... so that's a plus._

_Hopefully I can fit Zira into the next chapter..._

_¡Adios y vayan con Dios!_

_Twin :)_


	43. Stars and Stripes

_**A/N:**_

_Back again! I'm trying to fit this story into a schedule of (more or less) weekly updates. Although quality is and always shall be my first concern, regularity is still important. If I can kick myself into gear, then I should hopefully be able to get out 6-10 day chapters._

_Probably less this week. I'm on Spring Break. :) Reviews._

**_Warrior of The Forrest: _**_Hey, thanks! __*takes a bow* You get my applause just for reading all the way. Plus the traditional cookie. ;p_

**_Emerald dreamer96:_**_ Wait, so... *tries to think up opposites for those words* The second flashback was awful and happy and dark yet pleasant and generally great to read? XD That sounds... interesting, haha. But anyways, in regards to Scar... wow, you are astute! You noticed his little... purposeful misinformation... Well, I guess he didn't lie, per se. As you saw in Chapter 41, he doesn't like the idea that he killed his parents. But he is connected to both of their deaths in a major way. Not gonna say anymore, my lips are sealed. :x_

_There will be more positive emotional bits/heartwarming moments, but I'm not sure if they can necessarily be classified in the same way as "fluffy, relatively thoughtless flashbacks". So kinda. But I'm glad you liked it. :) That whipping stung a bit, though. XD_

**_DancingKitKat: _**_Haha, yeah, the next ones probably won't be as cheesy... but thanks. :P I'm glad you enjoyed it._

_And yeah, that's a good, general rule. Reviews are *usually* connected with quality. Unless it's porno or My Immortal or something. lol Thanks for the review again. :)_

**_IronicSnap:_**_ Ahahaha, more Google mayhem? Wow, I'll have to sit for that story sometime. :P And I agree - a little but of lightness/fluff is nice to break through the 'dark', but sometimes just writing gritty conflict, or, as you write, 'sass', is more entertaining. To be honest, though, those last two flashbacks were kind of ad lib... I'd never thought through them before, so I'm glad that you liked them and that they had the desired effect. _

_This one doesn't have any flashbacks, but mostly just because I didn't want to cram them all in at one time and overwhelm you guys. (Trust me, if I could I'd always write flashbacks and dream scenes, haha.)_

**_mom:_**_ I see what you mean, but as with most of this story, the events and emotions are based on a rough blend between personal experience, personal observation, and general principle (such as taken from other fanfics, books, movies, songs, etc., and a lot of thinking on the matter). So somewhat. I think that you guys should really see Scar for who is - dark parts and all - before you decide on whether he deserves ultimate redemption or condemnation. :3_

**_Fluffy Hug:_**_ I'm glad you read all this way, so thank you. Here's your cookie. :) And you'll have to see, so keep reading! _

**_pokeking95:_**_ No offense taken. XD Actually, I wasn't on Spring Break, I was just really motivated... but NOW... now I'm on Spring Break. (Much to the frustration of local Running Start students, Spring Break for college students and the Spring Break at my high school are a week apart)._

_"Ah, well, I suppose it just wouldn't be right for this fic if there isn't something sad or dark to accompany any possibly heartwarming scene" - Uh, yeah, you sound a bit... despondent... there indeed. o.O Is it really that bad? lol But yes, the end should come soon, so there aren't going to be many more scenes up that particular alley. That said, I'm glad you liked it (and of course my portrayal of Scar. That's like the whole reason I got into TLK fanfic, so I'd be a bit bummed if it was... off... xP)._

_Ah, I'm sad to hear that. :/ Something about winter in general... probably the dreary, crap weather we were having. *assuming it's the same for you in Seattle-area* And of course I'd like to read it! Keep me updated!_

_PS Yeah, I lived kind of an... unconventional... childhood, although I think I always kinda knew that. lol I guess it was a bit easier for him, since he was getting retirement pay from the military and we had a living arrangement where we didn't have to pay rent... but that was just necessity, since he obviously didn't have time to get a job. There were a lot of Taco Bell dinners and after-schools spent at the college, often until ten or eleven at night... at least until I was old enough to stay home alone. That said, __I still find it funny how I'll be attending college like four years after my dad's graduation. Har har har. xP_

_PPS Holy crap, that's impressive. o.o I can imagine she was good - teachers like that are always dedicated. You can just tell, you know?_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Hey, long time, no see, right? Welcome back! Hehe. xD I like your checklist there... although this chapter does go off in a bit of a different direction. No worries, though! All will be answered in due time. ;p_

**_BlackLouie:_**_ Yeah, Zira's kinda taken a backseat here lately, but that'll all change soon. ;) Glad you liked it! Hope you keep reading._

_Oh, and I changed the title cover, since I was kind of tired of it sucking. *Kthxbaiiyourwelcome. /3*_

* * *

><p>Time had passed very slowly for the dark lion standing in the midst of the commotion as even more mayhem suddenly entered the scene. It trickled by slowly, almost painstakingly, drawing out the cries of the thin, stretched lioness until their echoes reached the point of nothingness in the still air.<p>

She leapt in as though with no forethought at all, simply screaming her anger and rash frustration as she approached the nearest hyena and smacked him so hard that the already-countless stars in the sky were suddenly multiplying around his bleary head.

"GGGGGGRRRRRRRRRaaaaaaaaaahhhh!"

_Smack!_

"… The hell?! Look out!"

_"Get out of my way, filth!_"

_Crash!_

It was something like a melody—no, a symphony—droned out by a crazed, lunatic composer. Scar sidestepped quickly, trying to prevent a wayward hyena from running over him. Nyota, however, seemed to be on top of the chaos, looking up and belting out, with a sturdy voice:

"Don't you dare touch her!"

The air seemed to go silent for a moment as the hyenas, prepared to retaliate against this new intruder, were suddenly reminded of their leader's precarious position… They stopped and twirled around in a manner that was almost comical, crowing in surprise and skidding to a stop in the slick mud.

The dark lion bit his tongue softly.

"Scar, what the hell are you doing standing there? These brutes are after _you_, now move it!"

Oh, Zira. She wasn't known for being soft-spoken, was she?

_Why must these situations always be so… complicated…?_

He flashed a look at the striped lioness, then at Nyota, then back, a flicker of confusion still glimmering in his exhausted, lagging features. But any hesitation was short-lived, for Zira, as usual, knew what she was talking about.

"Scar, get out of here!" Nyota pled, almost sounding angry in her forcefulness. "We'll catch up!"

They'd better, because he wasn't sure he could make it all the way to Pride Rock on his own. Not with his injured leg…

Back to running it was, then.

At the same moment, without any warning, Zira took off like a shot at a different angle, several angry hyenas instinctively tracking her down with a dogged pursuit… and completely ignoring their real target as they barreled around the edge of the waterhole. Zamani could only watch in near-helpless infuriation as one or two of the hyenas chased after Scar, and a full half of her forces bolted after a peripheral, unimportant lioness.

The remainders stood there tersely, awaiting command and unsure of what to do… and Nyota stood starkly in the middle of them, unable to hide her confusion as she contemplated, with a drooped jaw, her suddenly lonely state.

So she'd just been abandoned, then? Couldn't Zira have waited until… well, a more opportune moment arrived, instead of just running off and relying on the fact that the hyenas were _presumably _stupid enough to follow her?

Oh, who was she kidding? The whole imbroglio was falling apart…

Not wanting to become ensnared in the impending danger, she too leapt away as unpredictably as she could, diving straight through a heap of bushes in the opposite direction and hoping, above all, that she could reunite with the others without too much trouble. Her cream pelt cruised up the hill she had descended minutes before, paw pads licking the stone with a soft, graceful step… until she reached the summit and consequently disappeared behind it.

"Well, whaddya standin' slack-jawed for? _I'm fine, don'tcha'll worry 'bout me! _Go! Scram! Vamoose! And fo'get the dam' lionesses!"

"But… we were told to… to kill…"

"Ya know, _I don't give two mutts' behinds 'bout the little whelp, ya hear? _ Just GET HIM."

She raised her paw threateningly, and the small group of hyenas scooted off, kicking themselves past the torrents of mud and sloshing water as they followed the trail of their prey, who was already waning on the murky, darkened horizon despite his injuries. The matriarch's face was plastered into a thick, disapproving frown in light of this.

Alas, if she wanted something done right, she should have done it herself. But unfortunately, that wasn't an option anymore. She shifted her weight awkwardly as she stood, contemplating, and tried to keep pressure off of her one forelimb… which was still, despite the passage of time, smarting and achy with fresh shots of pain at seemingly random intervals.

Indeed, as much as she hated to admit it, being held hostage by the little lioness had caught her a bit off guard in her age, and given her more of a shock than she had experienced lately. Her heart was still hammering in its cage, its rhythmic beat practically showing through her wrinkled, partially-sweaty skin.

Good thing she'd hidden that—fear was nothing but an obstacle, something that would have gotten in the way and intruded on her intentions. And being afraid of such a petty skirmish, even now, seemed oddly pathetic in her mind.

Nonetheless, there was still the slightest prick of nervousness as Zamani, now alone, glanced up the hill, a pair of glistening cat-eyes barely visible upon its crest, far to her left.

She would have liked to rid herself of the little pest: it had been made clear, in no uncertain terms, that Nyota was not to survive the night. But alas, at the end of the day, it was only another needless demand from her capricious and enigmatic new ally. As for now, she had other, bigger fish to metaphorically 'fry', so to speak.

"If ya want somethin' done right, you gotta do it yourself," she shrugged carelessly and broke into a run, ignoring the shimmering glint of eyes on the hill and turning her sight towards the lion she needed to complete her plans…

Oh, she liked that thought. Despite the pain in her joints, and the slight popping of her angled vertebrae, there was still a thrilling shot of excitement as she thought of other, similarly enthralling times—such as the night she slayed Ulaghai, perhaps, or the night she killed that old crazed codger of a king, Ahadi…

And then a toothy smile broke out from ear to ear, such as she could never resist whenever she thought of upcoming days… and the moment when she would finally, at long last, kill Mufasa…

* * *

><p>"Down here!"<p>

_Galump, galump, galump…_

"Scar, are you"—_whack!_—"deaf? I'm down here!"

The dark lion could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in the cold night, and he was barely able to spot Zira's murky form running parallel to him, at the bottom of the hill. Most of her pursuers had been disabled, either losing her in her twisting track through vegetated corridors and rocky slopes, or simply being smacked to the point of unconsciousness.

As she ran, in fact, he could see her lash out. Her whole body twirled around, seemingly with the grace of a dancer in the darkness, as her hind foot connected solidly with the jaw of one of the few remaining hyenas. There was a sickening _crunch_, and then a _thud_ as her unfortunate target crumpled limply to the hard ground.

He heard it even over the rhythmic pounding of his footsteps against the earth, the trailing clods of dirt flying out from under his paws. That was no small feat, given how much his head throbbed, drenched in sweat, and resounded with his runaway heartbeat.

Finally he looked down and gave her the briefest of acknowledgments, a small nod managed between two heaving breaths. No need for her to yell at him a third time.

She nodded back, mouth closing in satisfaction… and broke up the hill with the fleet-footedness of a sprinter. How she wasn't winded after all this running, he didn't know…

None of the hyenas seemed to have the strength to follow her up the rocky hill.

"Hey, Speedy," she broke ahead of him slightly, giving him a self-confident wink. Her angular face appeared so much different now, with its shaven look… it was sharper, cooler, even a touch ruthless-looking. "How're you holding up?"

"W… W… wonder… fully," he stammered out, his chest feeling as though it were a physical, knotted lump.

"Glad to hear it." Zira offered him an exaggerated, almost cheeky grin. Where was she getting all this confidence from?

They slowed slightly—imperceptibly at first, though inevitably they reached a moderately-paced jog. Scar gasped, trying to catch his breath. Good thing these were hyenas, and not lionesses… no one seemed to be following them anymore.

Zira noted this fact astutely.

"Looks like they're gone for now. It's getting dark—too dark to travel. Were you the one who told me hyenas can't climb too well?"

He studied her glimmering, blood-red eyes for a moment, entranced with the easiness of her gait and the shimmering determination in her solid gaze. Something was definitely up… but it wasn't something he could presently trouble himself with. He simply lowered his head in thought and kept one of his eyes on her…

"The baobab tree," he stated definitively. "We could head there for the night."

"Good," the crook of a smile spread across her visage. "It should be in this direction, and…"

She trailed off, nostrils flaring. At first he merely thought her to be taking a breath, thus breaking her calm composure, but after a few moments she seemed to stiffen imperceptibly as a short burst of wind broke the calm atmosphere surrounding them. Her smile melted into a terse frown beneath the warm dustiness of a familiar scent.

"Looks like Nyota knows where we're headed. Good thing she made it out of there, huh?"

He shrugged, unable to read her expression or her vaguely scathing tone. They slowed to a stop as they ascended the last hill, reaching a flat plain. In the distance, the gnarled, knotty limbs of the baobab tree were vaguely visible, branches appearing as pitch-hued, silhouetted fingers against a navy sky.

Zira began trotting placidly, seemingly without a care in the world. A few steps were all she took, before she turned and coaxed him on pleasantly.

He hadn't moved, oddly enough.

"Come on, what are you waiting for?"

Something about this wasn't right… he felt uneasy about it…

"Scar…? Scar, a-are you oka—?"

_Slam!_

"Scar!" She bolted up as soon as she saw what had happened, her feet a flying flurry of fur as she charged without a second thought. "What the hell?!"

"You'd best stand back or he ain't gonna be in such good shape, now!"

Zira halted at the top of the hill, unable to hide the shock on her face, the electrifying pulsing of her heart suddenly rapid and furious as her sweat-drenched hackles stood straight on end. Scar lay, against his will, a few feet away, struggling and writhing angrily.

"Get off me, you cretin!" he growled indignantly, aiming his claws at the hyena matriarch, who only bristled and swatted his arm away. "Leave me be!"

"Wrong choice, _Zamani_," Zira's canines came out of hiding, long sabers lying under a scrunched nose and an unsettling pair of bloody, vengeful eyes. "Move. Now."

"I wouldn't move _any _closer, dearie."

"You won't kill him," the lioness spat. "You need him alive. I know you do."

"I never said _anythin' _bout killin' him," she showed a single, glinting claw, holding it up in the sparse moonlight before placing it on the clump of mane at his glistening chest. "But I know how to make 'im _hurt_. An' if you don't take one _good, _long step backward, he's gonna be more dead than alive when we finally get our paws on 'im." She smirked. "Which we will."

The lioness swore under her breath, but backed up diffidently, her eyes narrowed and burning in fury the whole time. Her muscles grew taut, bunching together near her hind end like a coiled spring as she nonetheless prepared to leap…

Until she saw several pairs of reflective eyes shining on the slope of the hill below, belonging to the hyenas who were now shuffling slowly upwards…

How come she couldn't smell them? The only scent she could detect in the air was Nyota's…

Speaking of which, was that murky silhouette hers?

"Hey, look, it's that lioness you were supposed to get rid of. Remember her?" She flicked her tail towards Nyota, and relished the brief look of surprise and suspicion that the matriarch could not hide.

"… How do you know about that?"

The wizened female cast a glance over her shoulder, no doubt picking up the lioness' odor wafting in the breeze. Her mistake.

"Grah!" Zira leapt passionately at her adversary, fangs protruding in a terrible grimace that made her look simply bloodthirsty—Scar's captor tried to dodge, but wasn't quite quick enough. Though she hadn't been knocked over, the lioness had still grabbed her and clung forcefully onto her back, attempting to bite and kick and use her own weight to topple the hyena over.

"Errrmfft… A tough cookie, huh?" She gritted her teeth in fierce opposition, trying to avoid being pulled over. "Have it your own way, dearie."

Zamani lifted up her paw, barely able to ignore that Zira was pulling her backward, the lioness' paws clutching at her chest and waving in front of her face distractingly. She lifted her muzzle, barely able to see the lion she was standing on top of, and swung her arm wildly. There was a _smack_ as her claws connected with the edge of his muzzle, and though she was barely able to see the damage, she decided to try again, hoping that beating the snot out of her captive would entice Zira to release her.

_Whack, whack, whack!_

Scar flinched and growled, trying to bring his own paw out from under the hyena's leg so that he could shield his face… but there was no way to do that. Not in the current tangle of limbs. Zira was growling in determination, her teeth gnawing at a scrap of ruff and her arms locked around the matriarch's chest, Zamani was batting at Scar and squirming in an attempt to free herself, and her comrades, though few in number, were circling around viciously, waiting for the opportune moment to intervene…

"_RAAAAAUGH!_" He roared suddenly and without warning as he was hit again, the sound of it causing Zira's pelt to prickle. A flush of blood dribbled onto Zira's leg, the lion continuing to moan as he attempted to roll over, to move away, to do _anything _to escape the sudden, senseless abuse.

Enough was enough.

"Get… off… of him!" Zira wrenched her paws to the side and shifted her center of balance suddenly. Zamani tried to compensate, trying not to fall… but the only way to do that was to stand precariously and put her weight on her bad leg. A pang of pain shot up her whole limb, and though she tried to ignore it, Zira was clearly at the advantage.

It was enough for Scar to free his limbs, sending Zamani a sharp kick to the mandible. Her face scrunched up in pain, eyes squeezed shut, and in another moment Scar had wriggled free of her grasp and flipped onto his feet, darting towards the tree as quickly as he could.

Which wasn't very fast, because as it turned out, he could barely see. His left eye was clenched shut, rivulets of fresh blood pooling on that side of his face. The way her claw had caught him… it had reopened the old wound framing his orbit, causing it to bleed profusely. He stumbled around in the tall grass, hoping to find the tree in the darkness and also hoping to avoid the hyenas, who were growling somewhere behind him.

"Scar, this way!"

Surprisingly, it was Nyota's voice calling to him in the grass—he could just see her pale pelt snaking through the underbrush. He followed the sign blindly, barely cognizant of anything else but the pounding of his heart against his chest and the thumping of his heavy footfalls against the packed, trampled earth. His vision, already only half-functional, wavered blearily as he tried to keep up, tried to push himself just a little farther…

"Quick, up here!"

The young, sprightly lioness leapt athletically into the tree, ascending it in a single bound before whirling around and offering him a paw.

Damn, he could barely see it… He tried wiping his eye clear, but to no avail. He scrabbled at the bark, trying to reach her forelimb… but nothing seemed to help.

"_Scar,_" Nyota let out a grunt of impatience despite herself, her voice stern, "hurry up! They're coming!"

His ear flicked behind him, picking up the rustling sounds of hyenas tunneling through the maze of grass to his rear. Surely enough, she was right—it wouldn't be long.

The dark lion tried again, this time catapulting off the ground in the best leap he could manage—again not very strong, for his hind leg was still recovering—and attempting to grip the lioness' paw. This he barely managed, the two of them just securing a tenuous grip before two hyenas leapt suddenly and unpredictably out of the curtain of grass with fearsome growls spread across their maws. They managed to pull the lion out of his momentary, loose embrace, and even the lioness looked surprised as she narrowly escaped being ripped out of the tree.

Scar could still barely see, the blood already drying and forming an irritating clot. He swiped angrily at the hyenas; luckily there were only two of them, but they still jumped upon him instantly, gnawing and biting at his limbs. The lion growled and attempted to shake them off, but then, in that moment, he heard another rustle in the brush, and his pupils narrowed in fright.

More of them? Already?

He tensed up, ready to fight, but inevitably it was Zira bursting through the brush, staggering along stalwartly and bleeding in several places, with a busted-up, bruised and bleeding shoulder to boot. Her face, already harsh and rugged, looked contemptuous once she noticed the hyenas, the edges of a scowl playing out upon her rough, angry visage.

"You think you _damn _hyenas can stop us, can't you?" she spat, looking frustrated to no end. "Wrong answer!"

She rammed into one of the hyenas, smacking the other one square in the face and thus eliciting a panicked yelp as a trail of saliva snaked through the air. Zira didn't stop, relentlessly wailing on them again and again with her claws, leaving deep scratches as they struggled to decide on which lion to tackle. Although Scar wasn't able to pack much of a punch, his vision being as impaired as it was, two ordinary hyenas against two angry lions was not by any means a fair match—as was evidenced by the fact that the both of them were receiving a fair whipping. After several moments they retreated with a staggering gait, barely able to stand upright.

But that didn't ease the lions' worry, for again the rustling began behind them, a pounding and steady rhythm steadily growing in its fearsome intensity. More of them were coming… a lot more.

Scar and Zira shared a brief, momentary glance, mouths rounded in realization of the fact that they would have a much harder time if they stayed on the ground. Quickly and wordlessly the lioness approached the lion and motioned to Nyota, who was still dangling, albeit awkwardly, from the edge of the baobab's base.

"I'll give you a boost on three, now go!" She lowered herself down, allowing him to place his hind limbs on her back as his forepaws groped at the bark.

"One…"

"Zira, are you sure about this?" Nyota called from the tree.

"Two…"

"… It seems as though we have no choice…" The lion countered, bracing himself.

"Three!"

The takeoff was awkward, but workable, Scar's legs uncoiling in the strongest bound he could muster as Zira heaved her back upwards, launching him farther. Nyota was unprepared for the lion to go so high, his muzzle almost slamming into her own as she flinched away. But his forelimbs still managed to clutch her strongly, and she, for her part, managed to avoid tumbling from the tree as she pulled him up and away from the ground.

The timing was fortuitous, because at that very moment between ten to fifteen hyenas—they were moving too quickly to be counted accurately—came bursting through, snarling and growling in rabid, pernicious anger. Zira's head shot up in surprise, and she did the only thing she could do: she bolted away from them, circling around the tree before whirling around and springing upward, her paws catching one of the lower branches. Several jaws snapped down under her, just missing her feet as she hoisted herself partly up, hoping that the weathered branch wouldn't, despite its thickness, crunch and crack under her weight.

That would be just her luck.

Scar and Nyota had already approached the other edge of the baobab's relatively flat center, where its spindly branches converged, hoping to spot the thin, pale lioness struggling on the edge of the tree's limb. Neither dared to put a paw farther, not wanting to slip and fall or perhaps break the branch.

"Err… don't fall!" Nyota blurted unhelpfully.

"_Gee_, thanks for the—dammit!" she grunted, attempting to place one of her back feet on the narrow strip of wood and failing, her claws scratching across the knotted surface—"great advice, Nyota. Real lifesaver!"

The young lioness recoiled, looking dismayed. More of the hyenas were gathering, and some were attempting to climb the tree… though it didn't appear to be working out very well for any of them. Their solid, tank-like builds made them utterly unsuited to such endeavors.

They weren't particularly high jumpers either, which was again fortunate: it was this fact alone that enabled Zira to finally get a footing on the branch, standing and, after she gained her bearings and sense of balance, slinking along it with a methodical gait, one foot directly in front of the other…

When she finally reached the base of the branches, she instinctively let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding…

"_Thank the spirits._"

"I can't believe we all made it here," Scar commented drearily, peeking over the edge of the tree and spotting the mob of disgruntled hyenas pacing around at the bottom, agitated. Even from there, he could hear their angered, frustrated comments, which were inspired by an exasperation directly complimenting the lions' shared relief.

"Great… what the hell do we do now?!"

"Get an elephant. One of 'em could knock the whole tree flat down!"

"You idiot! You know that they wouldn't do that for _us_—especially not the shaman's tree!"

"Hey, it was just an idea!"

"All of you, down there!" Zira grinned infectiously, looking at the hyenas over her shoulder as she gave them a wonderful view of her hind end and her lashing tail. "Sucks to suck, suckers!"

They fumed and barked out insults from their places on the ground.

"Just ya wait! We'll get our payback on all of ya! All of lionkind's gonna suffer at our paws when we get back in this kingdom!"

"Yeah!" Several others barked in agreement. "Death to all lions!"

"_Yeah, yeah!_" Zira retorted right back, "what a load!"

She paced, the three of them all wondering where they'd received the audacity to say such inflammatory things, to cross so deeply into lands that weren't theirs… They'd been behaving so strangely, so erratically, lately. She was shocked that nobody from Pride Rock had been informed about these intrusions. But alas, the pride of lions weren't doing very well at keeping themselves together. She should have expected as much.

"So…" Scar scratched at the bark restlessly, half of his visage red and grisly. "What do we do now? Wait up here until we die of old age, perhaps?"

Zira cracked a grin.

"Just follow my lead, dear."

Scar rolled his eyes imperceptibly, and Nyota was, from her place, sending Zira an inexplicably severe look. For although they were now in a place of relative safety, there were still issues to resolve, thoughts to bring to the surface. The joys of victory and survival had already, in a sense, given way to more bellicose, fractious emotions.

"Yeah, because that didn't nearly kill all of us just now."

The lion whirled around, confused by the young lioness' suddenly angry tone, and Zira's blank face quickly donned a look of wrought, burning offense.

_Oh… wrong choice of words, Nyota._

* * *

><p><em>This chapter was originally going to go farther, but to be honest this whole part was just... grueling... to write (especially since I did 90% of it in the last day or so). I'm not sure why, but some chapters are just like that. I guess it's for the same reason that doing long tracking shots is hard for filmmakers. It'll be nice to get a change in scenery.<em>

_Anyways, next chapter should be more drama/action/interaction between these three characters. Plus a major flashback either then or in the next chapter. It'll be a while before they get back to Pride Rock... _

_... But all hell will break loose when they finally do. x) So be sure to keep up! Add this story to your alerts list, if you haven't already. _

_Twin :)_


	44. Easier to Run

**_A/N: _**

_Chapter 44 is here. Already. Intriguing, right? Well, I wanted to get out one last chapter before Spring Break ended, and... well, whaddya know? I'm surprisingly motivated when it comes to writing._

_Fun facts about this chapter:_

_- It weighs in at a whopping 7,000 words (exactly!), which I believe makes it the longest._

_- I wrote it, in its entirety, today, in about 6-8 hours, so be on the lookout for errors, if there are any._

_Definitely one of my better ones, I should say. Hopefully it outranks the other 2 or 3 I've churned out in the last two weeks in terms of quality. Reviews._

**_Warrior of The Forrest: _**_Thanks, dude! Great to hear it. :) Hope you keep reading._

**_DancingKitKat:_**_ Good luck to her, indeed! May the stars act ever as her... saviors? I dunno, that's a tricky one. lol Although I'm sure she'll be fine, at least if she can fight like Katniss. XD *imagines Nyota shooting a bow*_

**_Emerald dreamer96:_**_ Obviously. XD *kidding, kidding* And yes, you are! Would you like a gold star or a biscuit? As far as the whipping... it worked alright, but I seriously might have to call PETFW on you... it's People for the Ethical Treatment of Fanfiction Writers, and it's TOTALLY a real organization, I'm honestly not just making it up right now. So-yeah-*cough-cough*-watch-out. XD_

_Oh, and regarding Zamani... her luck just sucks pitifully, as you'll soon see. So a little of both. Px And yes, those are my two favorite things too! It'll be fun for me. Glad you're enjoying it so far too. :P_

_ **mom: **I know, I don't let on... xD But sometimes it is very difficult. Last chapter I just wanted them to get into the tree, but then felt the urge to put in all these difficult-to-choreograph fight scenes for shock value and suspense and what not... plus it was dark so the lighting sucked, we had to get the cameras at the right angle for the tracking shots and wow, it was just grueling. It took several nights to film, and... wait... wrong medium. Never mind. Same kind of issue though. lol_

**_IronicSnap: _**_Dramatic shouting. Check. Presence of Zira. Check. Some ass-kicking... err, maybe not as much, but still a check. Hmmm, something tells me you'll like this chapter... xD Anyways, expect Zira to play a prominent role in the rest of this story, for the most part. She is still a bit of a mystery, though, if you ask me... guess she's always been that way._

_And I like Zamani too. She's fun. xD (And when I say fun, I mean fun to write, not a character with a fun personality. There's apparently a big difference!)_

**_pokeking95: _**_Yep, that's what spare time and motivation does. XD About time I get to this, though... but anyways, yes, I did see! Hoping to R&R soon. :)_

_Response to response: No, not really, I saw it more as bitter sarcasm. I was kind of being facetious. XD I find it funny how I'll sit there and sometimes be like 'huh, x fic is so good and dark, I wish mine were that dark! Mine seems light in comparison', and then I get here and you guys are like 'ohmygodnooooo *melts* it's so saaaaaad.' ;_; And then I sit there like... okay then... never mind. ._. I'll keep it light... I guess... lol_

_Personally, I don't see spring as a season, hardly. At least not here. It's just a wrestling match between winter and summer, with summer eventually winning. As a recent meme said, 'if we could not have all four seasons of weather in one week... that'd be great.' Pretty much sums up Washington, that does. :3 Hoping your weather is better than ours, however unlikely it is. Sad face about there not being a TB nearby (regarding my childhood: it was a mixed bag, as I think all childhoods are. It shifted a lot of my paradigms and influenced the way I see the world, for better or for worse, and the whole situation really made me self-reliant and dependent on storytelling and creativity to amuse myself, so I probably wouldn't be here writing if it went otherwise... on the other hand, though, it was very awkward socially. I can expand on this more over PM if you'd like)._

_Actual story stuff: I was going to have Zamani give one last appearance, but I decided that it wasn't needed and would in fact detract from the pacing, since these next few chapters are heavily centered on Scar/Nyota/Zira. Speaking of which, regarding Zira... yes, I realize she was childish and I see what you mean. Looking back, I may have overdone it, but I wanted her to seem determined and high-spirited, and also emphasize that she's still quite young and relatively mentally sane... although she still has some problems, as you will see, I wanted to give you all a glimpse of that. That said, Zira this chapter should seem more familiar and adhere more to how I've portrayed her in this continuity so far._

_Thanks for the review, as always. :)_

**_Lord of the Swords:_**_ Well, thanks for the compliment and all, but... you've just seen the first chapter. You ain't seen nothin' yet. ;P Hope you keep reading._

**_Night-Waker: _**_Hey, no worries. That's what the adage 'better late than never' exists for, after all. xD Thanks for your patience - I hope you keep enjoying the ride, and I'm glad you liked the last chapter, even if Zira was a bit more... comical... than usual. lol_

_That'd be pretty cool, but no, no Rafiki... none this chapter, either. ;/_

_PS What's with the avi? o.o Trying to feed some people nightmare fodder? XD lolol_

**_BlackLouie:_**_ Glad to hear it! I hope it's as good as you imagined it._

_Oh, and a note of warning. I wasn't originally planning on it, but this chapter delves into Zira's backstory somewhat, making it longer than expected. It also means that this chapter is very dark. There are, in particular, some disturbing depictions, as well as references to rape. ^^^ So please keep the T rating up there in mind. ^^^_

_Without further ado, read and enjoy._

* * *

><p>The tree was still and senescent, as it always was, its branches quiet and sturdy even when the rare gusts of wind whistled through them in a dark, forlorn tone. It was old and stiff, like an arthritic brute, a sentry standing guard upon the savannah, ever watchful and vigilant. Thick knots of wood formed black bumps in its dendritic silhouette, dark points groping the sky and attempting to break the unknown boundary between heaven and earth. Attempting to subdue the force tying it to the ground.<p>

It was the air, thick and heavy, weighing upon its burly figure. The only barrier keeping it from wrenching free of the soil and flying upwards, away from all danger and trouble, to be free and unlimited and alive… but alas, no, it hung weary and sulking in the mud, as lethargic and torpid as the humid air surrounding it.

All three of them were breathing it in, the moist stickiness of it suddenly stifling their lungs as they looked for words to say, sharp daggers to puncture the everlasting silence, the enrapturing stillness in the muggy atmosphere.

Zira, understandably, was first, her voice surprisingly severe and forceful: as dark, in fact, as the sky around them. Her claws scrapped, suddenly and silently, at the bark, teeth pressing at the edges of her lips and beckoning her to unsheathe their deadly tips…

"You know, that's an _awfully _interesting way to thank someone who just risked everything to save your life."

Nyota didn't back down, something about her undeniably and uncharacteristically confrontational as she met the wiry lioness head on, her ears pinned back and her demeanor bristling both physically and emotionally.

"Saved our lives? We didn't_ ask_ for your help, you know! I had it under control _just fine_."

"You? Having _that _situation under control?" The thin lioness spat irritably onto the ground below. "Curses on me if that situation was under control from where _I _was standing!"

"Well," she retorted, just as sharply. "Curses _on _you, then, because I _did _have it under control. Until you came up and nearly got me killed and agitated the whole entire pack!"

"Agitated?" Zira's countenance changed quickly, contorting into an even fiercer, more threatening posture. "_AGITATED? _I know _damn _well that they won't stop until they have him in their grasp… you should know that! And you know that they were already going to kill _you_, too, don't you?" She paused, seething through her gritted teeth. "… Don't you?!"

"_What_? No! I… no! What, that… doesn't even make sense!"

"Well, well… it seems we all have our secrets, don't we?" Scar interjected quietly from his place for the first time. His raven mane flapped slightly in the breeze, the fresh wounds on his face stinging in the turbulent air as he squinted through his good eye at Nyota, who appeared oddly defensive.

That, or flustered, to say the least.

"So then, Nyota," he pressed, voice tinged with the slightest hint of indignation, "kindly enlighten Zira and I as to why these kindly hyenas would want you dead. And please be quick about it."

"What? No…" she trailed off, her voice calm and vaguely worried as she sought, desperately, a pair of eyes that weren't boring into her with silent anticipation. She took a physical step back, hurt and confused and no longer wanting to argue. "… I don't know. Really, I don't. But you know, if I'm to be honest," she swallowed, obviously trying to keep her emotions in check, "I'm a little hurt by the fact that all you two have done is accuse me, when I was only just trying to help you."

Scar's visage softened, if only slightly, though Zira remained glowering harshly. There were still a lot of unanswered questions. It was as though an emotional stalemate had been reached, and for a long moment the trio simply stood there, frustrated and pondering, with far more questions running through their minds than answers.

Given her frankness, however, the dark lion decided to be equally honest, if slightly cutting.

"Then to be fair, and with all due respect, Nyota," his lip twitched, eye glinting sharply, "if you want to help me, perhaps you should be slightly more careful about _when _and _where _you decide to drag my unconscious body when you want to 'chat'. Next time, leave me in the tree… and save all the damn _trouble!_"

He couldn't keep the acrid note of severity out of his voice despite himself. But Zira, however, found her emotions a lot harder to control.

A lot harder.

"You did… _WHAT?_"

"I… I'm sorry! I wanted to be alone with him… I didn't think hyenas—"

"_No, _you _didn't _think, did you? You nearly got all three of us killed because you didn't _THINK!_"

"Zira, calm down. I d-didn't mean any harm."

"The _hell _you didn't!"

The pale lioness took another step back in acquiescence, looking truly guilty, if slightly naïve. But her disarming look wasn't enough to annul the hostilities of Zira, who leapt just as easily and readily at the young lioness as she had bounded at the army of vengeful hyenas.

There was no time to dodge it, no time to prevent it. She simply jumped on her first impulse, claws extending and connecting with a harsh sound, before flexing and kneading into her victim's flesh as easily as they had clawed the bark of the tough old tree, and scraping off wads of fur along with them. Nyota shielded her face with her forearm instinctively, curling behind it and recoiling from her companion's sudden aggression. Yet despite this, she couldn't help but give a surprised yelp when Zira pinned her to the nearest branch. It took only one quick, ruthless move for her to knock Nyota's forelimb out of the way, before doling the hapless young huntress a swift, clawed slap across the face.

Three fresh red lines were instantaneously drawn, sharply and clearly, across her cheek, as though they'd been marked with pen and ink rather than with claw and blood. The recipient of these wounds scrunched her eyes shut and again brought a paw up to her face in defense, otherwise completely disarmed. She did nothing to return the aggression, merely whimpering softly in pain, yet Zira was prepared to try it again, lifting up her muscled limb to smack her compatriot a second time as a fearsome growl started scornfully in the depths of her throat.

A growl that was quickly surpassed by the roar Scar gave as he leapt in front of her, eyes wrought with fire above his scrunched nose and his exposed, glistening canines.

"_Enough._"

"Scar… get out of my way," she snarled, showing a glint of determined defiance in her eye—something that surprised him, even if he refused to admit it.

He was just as determined and stubborn as she was. Obviously she should have known that.

"I know you're angry," he croaked, trying to keep his simmering frustration in check as he spoke, quietly and dangerously, "and believe me, you have _every right _to be… but we're obviously having enough trouble keeping ourselves alive as it is. Now _keep your temper in check… _or I'm going to have to show you mine!"

She bristled at his tacit threat, and a cold prickle simultaneously crept up into his stomach. He sounded just like his brother, his brother who always seemed to use force to get what he wanted when diplomacy failed. If he even tried diplomacy, that is. It sickened him to make that comparison, it really did… but what else could he have done?

Her response was all too predictable. It was the same exact tactic he'd used so many times, only now he was the instigator, the looming Mufasa-figure, and she the endlessly-outraged, the emotionally frayed and distraught one…

Already this entire situation was making him uncomfortable.

"Well, fine then," she sheathed her claws pointedly, making as much noise as she could while she did so and letting a hint of barely-suppressed rage and fiery aggression puncture her taut and yet passive exterior. "Have it your way. If you want to bring this _stupid_, _thoughtless, endangering _little whelp along… then have a party. _I'm _certainly not going to stop you." She sauntered past him coolly, her hips undulating in a wide, smooth gait and her eyes half-lidded as she glared at Nyota and at him in turn. The wiry lioness even went so far as to puff a quick stream of breath upward, presumably out of habit as she tried to blow her nonexistent fringe of bangs out of her eyes.

She said nothing more as she leapt up the contours of the nearest branch, leaving the two of them alone. He only grimaced tightly, disappointed with the entire… encounter… between the three of them. All it had done was serve to make an already tight situation even more tense, awkward, and, above all, downright confusing.

None of it made sense. Why was the young lioness so upset at Zira? How did Zira know so much about what the hyenas were doing?

And speaking of which, why had the brutes been sent to kill _Nyota_, of all people? They didn't pick targets so specifically like that without a good reason… so what could the lioness have possibly done? From what she had asserted, nothing. Either she was lying, and was a terrible liar at that—no surprise—or Zira was lying, perhaps, or the hyenas had simply… lost it… somewhere along the line.

Not that those options were surprising, either.

"Ermftt…" he heard a groan to his side, and was promptly snapped out of his thoughts as he remembered that the pale lioness was struggling to stand up next to him, a ruddy paw pressed against the side of her face.

"Are you alright?" he asked coldly, mechanically, not bothering to move…

"Fine. I'm fine."

Nyota staggered to her feet with a heavy breath, tongue lolling slightly and covered in warm froth. There was a visible flicker of fear in her eyes as she withdrew her shaking, dirty paw and found it covered in warm, trickling streams of fresh blood, though she quickly hid it. She'd seen worse carnage in her short life than this.

Her paw went straight back to her cheek, instinctively applying pressure to the wounds despite the momentary pricks of pain that her care wrought. She tried to stay quiet, though he could see her gnaw at her lip softly.

A few seconds passed, and she finally seemed to become aware of the lion watching her.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with a bloodied face, huh?" She chuckled awkwardly, though she abruptly stopped when she saw that Scar's visage was humorless. "Well… I'm sorry that Zamani did that to you. She opened up the scar, I guess?"

_Yes, and it hurts like a _devil_, and it's all your fault, really…_

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't bother to say them. There had been enough finger-pointing for tonight. So he simply nodded brusquely. Knowing her, she was trying to start a conversation, trying to ease the tension. He understood, but he couldn't comply. He didn't want to snap at her.

In fact, it was probably better if he went and talked to Zira.

"Wow, that's, err, crazy," she interjected suddenly, rather awkwardly… And again, he got the idea that he didn't like the inherent path of this conversation.

Her continuing words only proved his misgivings. "You know, I'm sure that scar's been there a while, hasn't it? I mean it looks kind of old. Did you get it from a hyena, too? That'd be kind of funny. Well, not funny, but ironic, if you got it from a hyena and then Zamani—"

"I'm sure you've been wondering about my scar for a good long while, haven't you?"

"Well, yes," she chirped, innocently enough.

"Then _get used to it_." He snapped—again a bit harsher than he would have liked, though by no means severe given the circumstances. Best to take control and nip this inquisitive streak in the bud, before it sprouted and caused trouble. "Some stones are best left unturned, as I'm sure _you _would know, Nyota?"

She frowned.

"I don't know. I just thought that since you don't really like to talk about anything, that maybe you needed to… with me, or someone else, or something…"

"I don't want to. I don't talk about my past." His voice was sharp, acerbic… though it quickly softened as he saw her disappointed expression and briefly thought the matter over. Best not to hurt her too much—as of now, she was one of a handful of lionesses who didn't outright want to murder him in his sleep. "You mean well, Nyota, as I am aware, though this is my own matter. Reflecting on past events does not give me catharsis. It does not '_set me free_', as the truth is so often and so romantically held to do. It does _no _good—it only makes me _sour_."

And then, with a wry expression:

"… And you won't like me when I'm sour."

He turned and decided to leave for Zira's branch, believing those to be good words to finish on. Perhaps, if she could finally get that notion through her head, Nyota would stop pestering him about events that didn't at all concern her. Yet as he turned away, a gentle flick of his ear caught her one last rebuttal, a sad and solemn sigh conjoined with one last, mournful entreaty.

If she wasn't _persistent_…

"I didn't mean harm, like you said. I just… thought you deserved a second chance. Everyone deserves a second chance in life."

He stopped short of leaping into the canopy, freezing still and giving her a turn of the ears, a flash of his irises... She had his attention, for the briefest of moments.

Alas, it was a noble stance to take—to believe that everyone needed another chance, another helping hand when they fell in order that they may stand back up on their feet. To believe that even the wretched and the damned deserved some measure of love, that somehow it would melt their hardened ways.

Yes, it was noble. But the world, unfortunately, did not run on nobility. Her trusting nature would one day lead to her undoing, he was sure.

He responded in a tone so low that she could hardly hear it—a good thing, because the twinge of emotion in his voice momentarily escaped his control, leading to a pathetically contrite timbre that made him cringe inwardly.

"… _Not this one, Nyota…_"

And that was all.

* * *

><p>"It's late. Why aren't you asleep?"<p>

Zira looked at him through the crook of one of her half-open eyes, a brief acknowledgment before she turned and looked back out upon the vast savannah, her forelimbs crossed and one of her paws dangling lazily to the side of the branch. Her head was slumped into the crook of her elbow, eyes seeming to want to droop and melt into a closed position, though finally she seemed to shake herself of her stupor and take a more active, vigilant position, her paws shifting around quietly…

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," she drawled, still looking at him with a half-cocked eyebrow. "You're injured. Go to sleep."

"I'm fine. I'm not tired."

"_Scar_, that's a lie," she sighed, those same dark brows furrowing together tightly. "You know it, I know it. Go to sleep."

There was a long pause as the dark lion settled down himself, nestling into one of the more comfortable crooks on a limb parallel to Zira's, thus positioning the two lions a few feet apart, at most. He gaped dramatically, his jaws prying open and his tongue unfurling silently. His jade eyes scrunched shut and remained that way for several moments, until he lethargically blinked them open again.

And then, with a stubborn note, he repeated himself.

"I don't want to. I'm not tired."

Zira's tail swished, and her eyes rolled imperceptibly. She quickly realized that she wasn't going to achieve anything this way, and promptly changed the subject.

"Fine, your choice. Anyways, it seems like the hyenas aren't going to wait us out—no surprise, they've got more important issues to attend to, the plotting brutes—but there's no telling what tricks are hiding up their sleeves. Obviously someone's been teaching them a dirty little trick or two, hence why we haven't been able to detect their normally _putrid odor_. And then…" she trailed off, seeing the lion struggling to stay awake and attentive next to her. He gave a vague nod, but aside from that didn't seem to follow her entirely.

"Well, long story short, we have only our eyes and ears, so I figured I'd stay and play sentry."

"… Good thinking… I'll… stay awake with you, then…" he volunteered in a garbled tone, his muzzle pressed against his arm and his lower eyelid subsequently quashed into an unrecognizable shape. His breathing quieted, and it was all he could do to stifle another yawn.

"There's no need. I've done this many times before." Her tone seemed ironically forlorn, no doubt in thought of something else for a brief moment… until the lioness jerked herself towards other, more reassuring thoughts. "Besides, better me than _Nyota_… I'd rather die than willingly fall asleep with that little distracted runt on watch."

She chuckled derisively, though Scar adjusted himself, struggling out of his slump and into a straighter position.

"Perhaps not a fair judgment. She's little more than an adolescent… and a pitiful one at that."

"Oh, really?" Zira sat up rigidly and looked at him, interested. "I think you're losing it a bit, dear. Are you… _emotionally _invested in her… or something?"

The 'or something' was not added without a brief twitch of envy.

"Emotionally invested?" He scoffed. "Now _you're… _being ridiculous, Zira."

"Well, I know now that it wasn't your _fault_, but you two _were _alone out there when I found you, and then leaping in front of her like that…"

She smirked, something in her tone vaguely suggestive. Yes, she had a point: he'd jumped in front of her when he hadn't a need to do so. Surely he could have watched as she easily trounced and beat Nyota. It wouldn't have done him any physical or emotional harm to watch the lioness' punishment.

But then, in the long run, it wouldn't have done any good, either.

"She did the same for me, once, Zira. It wouldn't be sporting to leave such a debt unpaid, now would it? A life for a life, you could say… I'd prefer it not to go beyond that."

The wiry lioness stiffened at a brief rustle in the grass, her hackles raising. Her stark figure now sat stiffly upright, and she brought up her paw, hoping to shield her eyes from the dappled moonlight sifting down… but she promptly slumped back down onto the branch upon realizing the 'threat' was only a wayward impala.

"Damn my ancestors, you make it sound like I was going to _kill _her or something. I was just going to rough her up a little, Scar… it's not like she didn't deserve it."

"I know," he acceded bitterly, now laying his chin upon his crossed forearms as Zira was doing.

He said nothing, and for several moments there was only a taut pause in the air, full and heavy and humid… neither of them even bothered to grope around for words to say. They merely let the conversation dangle, both of them following their own thoughts and continuing that way, completely unaware of what the other was thinking.

Scar cleared his throat softly, glancing with suspicion as the antelope pawed at the ground and meandered aimlessly.

"I was thinking of something."

"Yes?"

"It's been bothering me…"

Zira gave him her full attention, her ears cupped so that they framed her chiseled, angular face, and her eyes silently goading him on. The fact the he would even consider discussing his emotions with her, let alone with anyone, came as a sudden surprise, especially given his sharp refusal to do the same with Nyota.

"I admit that, in the past, my actions towards you were… less than cordial..."

Oh. Wow. She was not expecting this at all.

"… Is this an actual… _apology… _that I hear, Scar?" She wheedled, the edges of a grin spreading across her face infectiously. "Honest, I'm shocked stiff."

"Don't press your luck," he smirked, his expression flat. "In any case, it occurred to me that you really have had little to no reason to do the actions you have, given the circumstances. Actions which—and I mean no disrespect—I would not have taken, were I in your place…"

He left it at that, though they both knew the truth of it. Had he, spirits forbid, been in her spot, chasing an unknown lioness only to be scorned so blatantly… he would have thrown the ungrateful wench to the wolves, no questions asked.

She knew it, for she saw right through him. Yet she hadn't done what he would have.

Rather, her studious gaze considered his words for a moment, mouth puckering as though they'd had a sharp, physical flavor. She chose her words carefully, tossing them around in her head with a vaguely contemplative air, before she spoke quietly.

"A perspicacious one, _hmm_?" She chuckled softly, attempting to mirror his way of speaking. "… Well, yes, I know. But I always knew that, Scar. That's part of why I did it, in fact."

His head tilted softly, clumps of mane falling to the side.

"Explain."

"That day when you told me to leave. I was only trying to protect you, as I'm sure you've since realized, as I thought maybe you needed it. Then here I was, presented with you, telling me that you didn't like me, didn't want me around, and such-like things I'd rather not dwell on…"

"Yes, in retrospect… my words may have been tangibly harsh, perhaps…" he grimaced and ducked his head sheepishly, looking at his forepaws and catching the slightest glimpse of the moon reflecting off of the impala's horns below. "They were unsuited to the situation."

"Well, whatever," she shook his uncharacteristically-meek, indirect apology off easily enough, "no need to lose sleep over it. But anyways, I ran off, all angry and upset, telling myself over and over that I wouldn't care if you died and went to hell, that that was just what you deserved, and that I wasn't going back for the world, that I didn't care one way or the other. Those were my emotions talking. But then I got to thinking…

"And I realized…" she paused, seeing that she had the tired older lion's rapt attention, strangely enough, "that, as weird as it sounds, I would have done the same thing in your place. 'I mean, why not play the devil's advocate for a second?' I said. I'm a lioness, running around, trying not to get killed over some such thing I did, and then some strange lion I don't know comes up from my former pride telling me he'll help me. Do I trust him? Of course not—not as far as I can throw him. Naturally I'm suspicious, and I'm careful, and I really need to not die, so I get him to help me a bit here, a bit there… and then ditch him before he can kill me. It's all just part of the game, you… you see…"

She paused and took a deep, heaving breath, obviously unused to talking so much at one time. Scar, too, was unused to her long-winded explanation, remembering with a twinge of guilt how he had questioned Zira earlier to almost no result.

"No wonder you were suspicious—you knew next to nothing about me," she interjected suddenly, as though reading his thoughts. "For all you knew I was just another enemy, but I wasn't. And I realized that if I just ran away, it would confirm all your suspicions. So I went back when you needed me… which I knew an enemy would_ not_ do."

He nodded slowly, more awake now than he'd been before, and found himself actually impressed by her insight and intelligence. It seemed as though she knew his psyche undeniably well…

"I see. But, unfortunately, that still doesn't explain one thing…"

She gawked at his puzzled expression, silently wondering what she possibly could have left out or left unclear…

"… and that's why you so desperately wanted to be my 'friend' in the first place."

The words escaped his lips, mostly out of curiosity, and were innocent enough. But the moment they ceased to be audible, a chilling silence trickled and permeated through the air, cold and icy despite the humidity surrounding them. Instantly he knew he'd struck a nerve—and a deep one at that. For several moments the lioness said nothing, merely watching her paw as it dangled and made little circles off the side of the branch.

"Well, if that isn't the crux of the matter…" she forced the words out bitterly, and something about how her tone sounded made him regret even asking. "… But whatever. You deserve an explanation. You deserve to know why. So see for yourself."

At first, he was unsure at what he was looking at as she suddenly pivoted and turned around, allowing her tail tip to brush silently against his chest. He cocked an eyebrow, unsure of what she wanted him to do… until she silently, wordlessly, and with eyes shut tight in shame, moved her tail aside, slowly and purposefully.

Instantly he drew back slightly, feeling somewhat uncomfortable to essentially be gazing at a lioness' most personal, private areas… but after a single moment that wasn't what caught his attention most. And what he did see suddenly sickened him to revulsion, for reasons he couldn't immediately explain.

Alas, Zira was a young lioness, youthful and unmated. What he'd expected, and indeed what any lion would have reasonably expected, was to see a smooth and unblemished surface around her vaginal area… but no, that wasn't so. In fact, it appeared scarred… deformed… broken and morphed and stretched into an unnatural shape. He grimaced and turned away in distaste, repulsed by how painful the whole spectacle looked and wondering, above all, who would violate a lioness so.

"I've never shown anybody else this, so please don't say anything." Her voice came in soft and far away, though she promptly lowered her tail upon realizing that she'd gotten her point across clearly. "I'm… a runaway, Scar. My family life…" she swallowed through the lump in her throat, honestly trying to dam back the obvious emotion she was feeling, "… was not the best. I had no choice."

"… Who did this to you…?"

Again, a question he instantly regretted asking. Yet her answer came, in a voice so ragged and broken that it didn't even sound like her.

"My father."

This time it was his turn for his lips to twist and pucker up, for he didn't exactly know what to say, or how to rectify the sudden drastic turn this whole conversation was taking. There was only the not-so-comforting feel of many cold beads of sweat on the back of his neck.

"I didn't know. You made the River Pride sound so… peachy…" he trailed off, and she knew it was in remembrance of the one other time they had brought up her past. She'd never made reference to just how dark and sorrowful life there had been.

"No, I didn't. I made Uongo sound peachy, because he was the one thing I had. But when he died, I had no reason to live… at least, not there." She sighed and even gave an odd twitch of the nose—was she crying? He thought he saw a tear fall amongst her glimmering eyes, though she quickly blinked back the moisture and dabbed at any wetness on her face with a paw. "You see… I never knew why my father did what he did. Why he didn't like me. Why he named me Zira. I don't even think he was my real father—I never stayed long enough to find out my whole story—but whatever happened, he made it clear that I would never rule the River Pride. That right would be given to my two older brothers, Rijali and Takribani. They were well-meaning, but… they didn't know their own strength, either…"

She stood back up and stretched out her full length, and a handful of nasty-looking, hairless marks, shining silver in the moonlight, glimmered along her flanks.

"I'm sure you can relate to that, given your relationship to Mufasa, right…?"

"An understatement," he growled irritably, reflecting on the many marks he'd been given himself, all for similar reasons…

"Well, my mother, on the other hand, was always telling me to be a princess regardless, always telling me to be prim and proper and nice and everything. She loved me, she really did, but… being pressured so hard to be like a princess and all, was it too much to ask to perhaps be given the right to actually be a princess? I didn't think so. But it continued like that, for… spirits, I don't even know how long. It was a perpetual trap. One side was telling me to shape up to rule the kingdom, and the other was telling me to just drudge along and be a commoner… something had to break. And when Uongo—my dear younger brother, my one shred of sanity, the _smart_ and funny and mischievous and _troublesome_ and _pin-headed _and lovable… and… and…"

She broke finally, unable to keep her emotions back as her dark-furred little baby brother, who had always been so bright and playful, ran across the stream of her memories so quickly and vividly that it once again seemed that he was utterly alive and vivacious and full of life, not cold and scrunched and dead as he'd been when the sickness had taken him, far too early... She turned away, trying to retain her dignity—probably out of habit—and sobbed for several moments.

Scar remained eerily quiet, unable to say anything. Needless to say, seeing someone like Zira cry was… unnerving, to say the least.

"When he finally died, I couldn't take it. So one day, I simply… left. Didn't tell anyone, didn't say goodbye, just… left. And I went west. I remember I traveled through the Eastern Deserts—which we always called the 'Sand Pit', because that's more or less what it was—and felt so lonely. You see, that was back before the Eastern Pride was obliterated, and before the tribal wars, so a whole community of lions still lived there, but I just couldn't stand the heat…"

He couldn't help but think of Nyota and her alleged origins at mention of the deserts, and inevitably he pondered over how she'd also come to him with some story in a similar vein. Vaguely he wondered if her past was anything like Zira's. Perhaps not, though it certainly seemed odd to him how the both of them had told, or at least tried to tell, their deepest secrets to him in the expanse of one single night.

Moreover, he found it baffling how these two had presumably suffered so much—perhaps as much as he had—and yet still seemed, for the most part, like average individuals. They had even sacrificed a part of themselves for him, to tell him these truths.

Perhaps he should heed their fair warnings a little more, even if only out of respect.

"Then I found the Pridelands," Zira croaked, finishing her anecdote. "Mufasa… he took me in. But I was always at the fringe, he reminded me too much of my older brothers… and then I saw you. So afraid, so angry, on the verge of a break. When the stampede happened, I knew you'd been pushed too far, just like I had when I'd ran away. So I hunted you down… and finally I found you."

Again, there was a taut pause in which nothing was said. There were only so many more overwhelming questions pounding at the door of his mind, desperately seeking the answers inside. Too bad for them, then, that those answers were locked away somewhere else, that the real truth was hidden in an unknown place.

But alas, the silence couldn't last forever. Not with so much on his mind.

"That's why you did it, then…" his countenance was indubitably solemn, with a touch of wonderment still in his voice. And then more words slipped, without his realizing: "I always wish that I'd had the courage to run away."

"I thought you had?" Zira spoke with much more enthusiasm, presumably relieved of a burden and grateful, of course, that the focus of conversation was no longer upon her. "Mufasa told me you spent some time in the Outlands…"

"Not by choice. I stuck it out for months, years perhaps, I'm not sure. I thought that if I just took it, just endured my exile… I'd have my old life back when I returned. But I was wrong—it was never the same. I should have run while I had the chance…"

How stupid. He shook his head, thinking to past ambitions, past lives, past dreams and past realities... and finding only yawning expanses of yearning and endless disappointment within the whole lot of them…

Better to just run away and leave it all behind, better to just forget everything and everyone without a second thought.

Better to just… abandon…

"I know, you and Mufasa don't get along… but it's still hard without a family. I left mine and never went back, and after a while it just… gets to you. You feel so lonely. I just… needed somebody. Somebody who would understand and be there for me. I realized that nobody should have to face the world alone."

The lioness paused, and suddenly she reached out with her paw and touched his, with a firm and devoted grip that suggested strength and tenaciousness. He jumped slightly, hairs bristling in surprise… but she didn't want to let go—not of this. For in the wake of hard-won experience, she didn't want to be left once again in the depths of darkness.

And she didn't want that for him, either.

"You don't have to face the world alone."

"Yes, I do…" he reacted quickly, pulling his paw away with an indignant and yet wrought expression. "There's no other option, I'm afraid. It's _far _too late for me, Zira. You should have run while you had the chance—it wouldn't be the first time for you, you wouldn't have had to stay with me, you wouldn't have had to suffer me dragging you down... It could have been a happy ending for everybody, hmm…?"

"But it wouldn't be happy. It would have been lonely."

"All the better." He turned away, his expression hard and cast in shadow so that she could barely see it, could hardly look him in the eye. In turn she glanced down at her paws, the timbre of her voice almost pleading.

"Loneliness isn't happiness, Scar. It's so many things—bitterness, anger, isolation, definitely… but it's not happiness."

There was a slight pang of emotion, a twinge of guilt at blocking her out so… her sentiments were real, and genuine, and they rang true. In the ineffable sadness of her words, borne from a soul so secretly ravaged and torn, there was a note of enlightenment.

Zira was lonely. Truly, deeply lonely.

"Perhaps you're right," he finally relented, laying his head back down on the branch and crossing his forepaws under him, attempting to reach a comfortable position and being unable to suppress another yawn at that. "But then, perhaps… I've lived so long this way that I can no longer tell the difference."

"Then I feel for you." She retorted bluntly, with a severe honesty.

"Well, I don't need pity."

His voice came out as hardly a mumble, again reflecting his exhaustion as his eyelids drooped and he struggled to keep his composure, struggled to keep his attention focused on her. Perhaps that was a good thing, for she, in her turn, was staring listlessly at him, that same pity reflecting and glinting out of her bloodshot, blood-hued eyes—obviously a strange contrast by any definition.

"Then what _do_ you need, Scar?"

His eyes closed all the way, letting him feel a brief moment of relative peacefulness, of relative quiescence. He heaved a long sigh, his heartbeat slowing as he settled into the crook of the branch and struggled to remain conscious. Alas, he'd had a long and tiresome day—good thing it would finally be at its end soon.

Indeed, the whole reason that there had been so much chaos, in this night and in his life as a whole, was because of the others in it. If he'd left it all behind, he could have relished the chance to be this relaxed, perhaps, every night, lying placidly and contentedly under the stars and enjoying the pleasantly warm evening zephyrs: an adequate substitution, in his mind, for the pleasure of having someone else's soft heartbeat and gentle breaths to sidle up to every night.

Only he could make himself feel that way, and only he could fulfill himself. He'd known that to be true for so long, and as far as he was concerned, it was final.

"… Nothing. I don't need anything, or anyone."

She smirked. Perhaps he wasn't convinced—not yet, at least. But she should have expected as much, given how long he'd been thus alone. Perhaps he really wasn't ready for companionship… and perhaps that was okay. For now.

Zira smiled to herself in the darkness, something the lion did not see while his eyes were scrunched tightly shut. He would be convinced in time, she was sure.

If he wasn't, she had little left to live for.

"_Scar_, that's a lie. You know it, I know it, now go to sleep…" she repeated, alluding back to an earlier point in their conversation with an odd note of ironic humor, a strange twinge of lightness that, despite her words, seemed to make the atmosphere less terse, and the mood a little less dark.

And so he responded in turn, parroting his earlier reply and sounding, despite his droopiness, just as steadfast and stubborn.

"I don't want to. I'm not tired."

Alas, what a silly juxtaposition, a paradox of truth and untruth. For indeed, the last statement was an outright lie. How could he not be tired after all this constant running and cavorting and contemplation? Already the darkness of sleep was closing in on him, clutching him in an almost-narcotic embrace, lulling him and stroking him and reassuring him. Sure, he'd give up to it, give up to the atmosphere of faux-peace. Again, how could he not?

Yet he didn't want to. Because there was another side, a darker side, to this coin. For as his mind drifted off in search of a dream, it always inevitably stumbled upon its meditative thoughts, something far from soothing. And though, in a strange way, he appreciated Zira's efforts, something much worse haunted him. A connection that his mind, in its complacent insistence, had forced upon him.

Zira wasn't just a lioness, calming him and telling him that she'd always be there for him in genuine concern and love. She was a second Mufasa, a second protector giving him that siren song. An incarnation, a rerun, of all his worst mistakes, his worst regrets, his worst downfalls…

And his worst undoings.

Just let go, the beast said, brutish and loving. Just let go, don't worry… I'll protect you. There's no need to fear, not while I'm here. I'll always love you, always be there.

He laughed in its face, in rebuttal and disdain. Curses on you, Fate, if you think you can pull the same trick twice. His mind said it as an invective, with such passion and force… but under his anger, there was only fear, only a wide terror coming from something so known, and yet so unknown…

If there'd been any reassurance, any warmth from having Zira next to him, it quickly froze over. Any twinges of regret or of sympathy quickly hardened into solid, forceful shards of ice weighing heavy in his gut…

And always he, or she, or whomever, was cooing, forked serpent tongue tickling his ear, coiled snake body trying to stroke his throat, to make him swallow, with the blindness and naïveté of a child, those sweet, innocuous lies.

It continued in spite of—no, _because of_—the sudden warmth of a tongue against his bruised cheek, the wet feel of the gobbets of saliva as they slicked his dark fur against the moist, underlying skin in a trail leading up the side of his face… The smooth, oily luxuriousness of that same breath he feared, caressing the insides of his ear with a delicate touch, a sweet melody that seemed to take, with ultimate deceptiveness and duplicity in its intent, the soft voice of a lioness. A ruse to cover up the harpy cries of the cruel brute that lay in wait, hoping to drag him under and deprive him of his life, his love, his _sanity_…

"_Sleep well, dear, because I'm not giving up—I love you_."

There was still a prickle of warmth in his chest, despite himself. He wanted to love, to feel love… but it wasn't a matter of what he wanted anymore.

For at this point, he wasn't even sure if he _could_ love.

Not anymore.

* * *

><p><em>This chapter took quite a turn from the one before, as I am aware. Next one continues this trend... if it turns out as I think it likely will, you all are not going to like me afterwards. xP There will be some bloodshed and overall anger and backstabbery going on, so again, fair warning. <em>

_Hoping this one wasn't too severe for anyone - to be honest, I wasn't planning on giving Zira any backstory, but it seemed relevant given the conversation I wanted them to have. I don't think it was that bad, personally, but others may disagree. I know that rape and sexual abuse are touchy subjects. Speaking of which, OC names:_

_Takribani - approximate_

_Rijali - virile_

_Anyways, see you all (hopefully next week) for Chapter 45. In the meantime, I guess it's back to school on Monday. (__Joyful elated wonderment of fantasticness! Whoopeeee!) But whatever. -.-_

_¡Hasta luego!_

_Twin :)_


	45. Skyfall I

**_A/N:_**

_Yikes! I swear, I wasn't trying... but anyone who's noticed the chapter title will see it._

_This is Part I of II._

_Apologieeeeees. _

_This one was also 7,000 words exactly, mostly in like 6 hours... I didn't want to go farther than that... otherwise the chapters will just get longer and longer ad infinitum (like they've been doing since like the day I started fanfiction). THIS TREND MUST BE STOPPED!1! OH NOES!_

_But yeah. This is a major part and... yeah, I realized that the whole flashback would be... reallllly long... the way I wrote it. I promise I won't keep you waiting too long. Promise, guys. Like for reals. Cliffhangers must be stopped too._

_God, I probably sound like I'm drunk. I swear I'm not! It's just... like... 4:00 AM... and counting... just waiting in my dark room with random music... typing out these notes. I'll probably be up until 4:30 doing these. Def sleeping in tomorrow._

_Reviews and stuff! Doing these fast. Can't think._

**_BlackLouie:_**_ Hi. Here it is. xP_

**_Kirbysamful:_**_ YES IT IS. I guess. lol Use your imagination._

**_DancingKitKat: _**_Hahaha, I know. If Nyota could catch on fire, that'd be pretty sick. Except she'd probably die and then her part of the story would abruptly end. :( And thanks!_

_I just realized I'm doing these backwards. Oh well. _

**_pokeking95: _**_Well if I'm writing something exciting I get super-motivated. Then sometimes I don't update for two months. So no big. I_ just wish school didn't get in my way, such a waste of 8 hours sometimes. _You saw my review, yes? And no, you didn't offend me. I figured you were joking in some way. lol __  
><em>

_And yay! ScarxZira fan! *cheesy grin* Glad you liked the chapter, I think it was one of the better ones, and Zira really did need some explanation since otherwise she'd seem like a major creeper/fangirl just runnin round for like no reason after a guy who says he hates her. lawl And sure, I'm fine with talking over it via PM. It's just a bit of a long story for ANs, haha._

**_Lord of the Swords: _**_WOOOO. YEAH. Multiple reads = multiple cookies, so here's a dozen or so. Glad you liked it that much! Honestly I sometimes am not expecting anyone to like it enough to read it once, let alone... more than once... xD_

_I'll consider a career there, thanks. :P *flattered*_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Normal person vs. Zira - Zira can and will wait for Scar for ETERNITY, I think. Normal person maybe a month. Yay obsessiveness!__  
><em>

_And okay, we'll just say Zira's dad got trampled in a stampede over a waterfall where he drowned and was crushed __in a pile of rocks that rained from a sky and a meteorite hit him and he caught on fire. Good enough? XD _

_But the eyes though... they stare... into souls... but in an awesome way. lol I wish I could 'art'. _

**_IronicSnap:_**_ Yelling is great, except when it's scary. Think last chapter was a bit of both, especially if you're Nyota. And Scar is trying to avoid senseless violence, yay for him, though he's a bit of an 'aguafiestas', as they say *look it up, now you have an awesome word to call people without them knowing what it means, you're welcome* ;P _

_And of course they're similar. They're like two peas. In a really close pod. Why do you think they were in love? Oh and nice ship metaphors. SCAR GET UP HERE WE NEED ALL HANDS ON DECK SO YOU CAN HELP BETRAY PEOPLE._

**_mom:_**_ Luke, I AM your daughter. O_o I didn't kill her and take her place, promise. _

**_Emerald dreamer96:_**_ Well, duh! Nyota's a star, so people who like Nyota must like stars, that's it yeah. And we don't! We have another purpose, I just do not know what it is yet. :( Glad you liked the chapter! Though sorry for drowning you in it, I guess. lolol_

_I'm so out of it. X_X Sorry if there's typos I didn't catch in the notes, I know I made a million of them. Just... ignore me... and read the chapter._

* * *

><p><em>I'm so sorry<em>…

He didn't hear the voice in the air so much as he felt it, a gentle susurration brushing softly against his breast, ruffling the fur there and, in a similar move, rustling up a prick of emotion. Somewhere he remembered it. Not just the timbre of the noise, not just the speaker, but those exact words.

_I hope you can forgive me for what I did…_

It came in so soft and far away, like a faint signal breathing through the quiet air, and suddenly he saw a trickle of light, a faint set of dapples on the ground from a gentle summer sun. And all the while the voice still came in, growing stronger and stronger as his vision became more lucid and began to take a less abstract form.

There were the usual fuzzy flickers of gold, the slight smudges of dark to contrast… several trees came into focus, their leaves glowing in the ample light of the sun and waving their thorny points in a cool, gentle breeze.

The day was perfectly idyllic. He would have enjoyed it, and the atmosphere, if it weren't for that creeping, haunting sensation of recognition, of utter familiarity. Now he saw it, and remembered it for what it was.

It was not a pleasant scene, despite the atmosphere.

_Please don't stay mad at me… I'm your brother. I love you…_

There it was. One of the last times anyone had ever said those words to him.

He stiffened up inadvertently, his back prickling with cold beads of sweat, his face utterly solemn. Already he had discerned what this was. It didn't surprise him, didn't make him keel over in shock, anymore. All he did was speak, in a weary note of defiance that he hoped would faze his hidden interlocutor, the trickster he knew was lying in wait behind the closest bush.

It didn't. But he had learned quite quickly.

"Why'd you bring me here?"

Another flash of gold, surprisingly blurry despite the sudden clarity the scene was being given. And then a sickening, calm grin.

"This day is _important _to you… isn't it, Taka?"

It was the otherworldly voice of his constant pest. Right now he took the form of Simba, as he usually did, but when he smiled his maw was filled with sharp fangs, dripping with blood and saliva. It was more than enough to send a frigid chill crawling up the entire length of the lion's spine, though as usual he attempted to hide his shot of terror amongst another strong dose of his usual anger.

"It's not. It's just worthless _rubbish_."

He watched with disgusted frustration as the younger version of himself, barely a ragged adolescent, walked quietly and courteously through the savannah, Mufasa lying and lying and lying with that sweet, placid, sugar-coated tongue of his.

Scar spat on the ground, though there was no fooling his demons. 'Simba', or whoever the beast was, flicked his tail passively, taking pleasure in this scene, and in reminding the dark lion of some of his guilt.

"You don't really _believe _that, do you…? "

"I'm past this. Leave me alone."

"_Hmm-hmm-hmm_," Simba's cub form chuckled in an uncharacteristically-smug mirth, his blood-red irises hidden from view as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sentiment, as oily and wheedling as always. "Then if it's so painless, you shouldn't mind reliving _every single moment_, should you, my friend?"

The dark lion gritted his teeth, attempting to hide his distaste. In order that he may not witness the scene, he turned around, giving the gaudy, golden form of his brother a nice view of his back. All he hoped to see was the endless expanse of savannah before him, dry and drought-ridden and yet still tinged with an awesome sense of majesty incurred by nostalgia and child-like wonder. But no matter where he turned, he couldn't escape it, couldn't escape the inevitable nightmare of what he saw… and what he knew was to come.

"I know you're _afraid_," the being hissed, his voice tinged with malice as he exposed a flat, forked, serpent-like tongue. "And I _love _it. Keep mewling for mommy, you little cub. You know you'll see her soon enough, hmm?"

"Please…" his tone took on a sudden note of desperation, almost whiny in its intensity, "… let me rest in peace."

"What, and dream of happy meadows and butterflies and true love and such-like _drivel_, like normal lions? Because you don't _deserve _to. I will pull and pull on this thread until it _unravels you, _Taka!"

A terrible glint of anger lit up his eyes—literally. Those red orbs seemed so violently real, so ineffably alive… and they glimmered with elusive, endless fire, even when he smiled his noxious, nocuous grin.

"You can never live down this nightmare, and you know it. May as well watch again, and be reminded of just how much of a _waste _you truly are."

Scar wanted to cry out, to let his rage and agony pour into some suitable outlet… but his words were muted and muffled. _Run away_, he wanted to say to himself—the himself of the past—but nothing came out of his taut, clamped-tight muzzle. There was only silence, complete save for his own old, past footsteps ringing in the air as the two lions rustled through the grass… and a cry of surprise as a dark lioness crept out from the curtain, beaming in a smile as her distended, swollen stomach swung from side to side slightly. There was no twinge of disdain, no scrap of contempt, as he had grown so used to seeing… there was only a gentle, loving expression on her face as she beheld her two oldest children.

And that only made it hurt all the more.

_Mother… you're… alive._

He thought he felt, as a complement to the sudden blur of emotions whirling in his chest, warm tendrils of moisture forming in his eye, creating a teardrop and choking his throat as he struggled to stifle a sob… but he quickly blinked it away. It looked like he had no choice in the matter. He would have to endure this torment.

It was time to face, in all its clarity and vividness, the day that had forever changed his life.

* * *

><p>"I know, Taka. I know what I said before. But I still feel like… feel like I lied to you. I'm so sorry, I hope you can forgive me for what I did."<p>

The dark lion waded through the veritable sea of grass on spindly legs, his scrawny form at the fledgling stages of an early, somewhat awkward adolescence. Long, patchy tufts of hair dangled from his chin—a budding goatee—and raven strands of mane were beginning to peak his sweaty chest; to shine, in all their glossiness, as long, coarse waves of pitch cropping up from his head and weaving behind his ears. His scratchy clay pelt ruffled and wavered in the abundant breezes, which served to cool the hot, everlasting days.

There was no look of anger on his face, despite the words of his older, less gangly brother. There was a taut note of pensiveness, perhaps, or of a vague thoughtfulness… but there didn't seem to be any evidence that the younger lion was in any way grudging.

Mufasa, however, was still apologetic, not quite sure what to make of his brother's silence… no matter how typical it may have been. He trotted ahead quietly, whirling around so that he could look his sibling in his eye instead of glancing over at him sporadically.

"Please… don't stay mad at me. I'm your brother," he paused, the wisps of words dramatically floating away on an evanescent gale. "I love you."

Taka smiled immediately, swallowing the words with no effort at all. It was a soft gaze he gave, forgiving and complacent to an extent that would have made his older self absolutely sick. He knew, or at least still believed, that Mufasa truly meant well.

"Apology accepted."

The golden lion breathed a sigh of relief, as though he'd been permitted to drop a physical burden. His words were, accordingly, spoken with a light and airy quickness.

"Thank you, Taka. I know it wasn't right of me, to invite Sarabi on that hunting trip without telling you. I didn't know Mom never told you about us, and I didn't know that you two were friends like that. And, you know…"

He gaped and trailed off, before closing his mouth and letting the silence of the savannah kill his thoughts in midsentence. Taka, however, was astute enough to understand, and picked the conversation up from there.

"No, we really weren't, Mufasa," the dark lion mumbled timidly, more for Mufasa's peace of mind, and his own, than out of any sense of truthfulness. It still hurt to think of it, of how the lioness he'd secretly admired for weeks had simply ignored him, simply discounted his attempts to win her attention, and utterly and inevitably scorned his desperate vying for her love at the end of the day…

Of course, that was because she had been betrothed, though how was he to know that? He'd barely seen his family for the entire cycle of the moon… It was almost as though they'd entirely forgotten about the little prince Taka. Now it was only scarcely better.

But, of course, Mufasa didn't mean harm. No use in holding a grudge—that would be toxic to their relationship, and spirits curse the day when he lost his sibling, the one who had always been there for him…

They could move on past it. They could move on past anything.

Or so he believed.

"It's… okay," he ended, trying to hide the note of disappointment and sorrow in his voice. "Let's just focus on what's important, shall we? Because I love you too, Mufasa."

The older lion beamed in response, a glimmer of pleasure shining in his placid amber eyes as he let those affirming words sink in. "You're great, little brother. Thanks, then… for giving me another chance. We'll have way more fun on this trip—I just know it."

Taka gave him a playfully wry expression, not knowing any better and feeling, in this instance at least, very optimistic. The edges of a smirk twitched across his face, strands of mane swaying in the wind.

"I'm sure we will, Mufasa."

But… wait one moment… what was that odor, so familiar, approaching them? The dark lion stiffened up, his expression fading and his nose twitching in confusion; his brother, though, only looked onwards with a vaguely pleased, self-satisfied expression, his much-fuller mane drooping in such a way that his face was framed with a set of wild auburn locks… and his taut, rippling muscles visibly relaxed in apparent ease as well.

The older sibling had planned it to happen this way, and he was pleased with his brother's surprise. When a dark, middle-aged lioness rustled through the grass and appeared next to them, he only smiled lightly, drinking in Taka's momentary shock and subsequent pleasure.

"... M-M-Mother? What are you doing here? I thought there was a hunt tod—"

"Not today, Atak," she grinned warmly, teeth showing softly through her lips, "… not for several weeks, actually. Mshale's leading the hunt. I've got some… err… _time off_."

The dark lion cocked his head slightly in confusion, causing several bits of mane to cascade downwards and fall to the other side of his face. Lionesses usually weren't permitted to abstain from the hunt for so long, unless there was a special circumstance: an injury or illness, perhaps, or, obviously… if they were expecting…

"So I decided that I'd spend time with the children that I have with me now, since I know your father certainly hasn't been doing it lately…"

She sent them a coy wink, and Taka's flustered expression flickered softly between his sibling and his mother, attempting to understand… though after several moments he shrugged it off. Best to make as much use of this time as he could. As she had said, their father had been far too busy to spend any leisure time with them, and he never seemed to have any idea as to when, exactly, he was to see either of his parents again.

Given this setback, they started immediately.

"So," she stretched, joints popping comfortably. "Let's start off simple. Who can tell me the four basic S's of hunting?"

The two brothers sent each other a brief look, doubtlessly gauging each other. They both knew that Mufasa could answer, given that he was clearly the better hunter of the two of them. But the golden lion motioned toward his sibling subtly with his head, coaxing him on.

_You got this, Taka…_

"Errmft," he bit his lip nervously, "sights, sounds, scents, and… well… another one?"

"Close."

"_Taka_," Mufasa corrected him, "those are the observation guidelines. She's talking about the procedural outline."

"… Oh." He didn't really know the difference. "Uh… I'm not sure?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" Uru asked him quietly, hollowing out her back and giving a luxurious moan in pleasure as her vertebrae creaked softly. Her eyes were scrunched shut, and she could not see her son's confused face as she waited for an answer. "Taka?"

"An answer, Mother." His voice came out resigned and respectful. The lioness moved on.

"Muffy?" She queried, opening one of her eyes and raising a single, thin eyebrow at her elder son. He took a breath, reciting the answer as though he'd thought over it many times.

"Stalking, strategy, sprinting, and striking."

"Good," she finally stood up straight, pleased. "Very good, Mufasa. Now, I'm not sure how much Ahadi has taught you, but I was thinking we'd review all four today. How does that sound?"

The two brothers stood for a moment, and again there was a shared glance between them, this time in consideration of what she'd said. Their lips twisted momentarily, but eventually Mufasa glanced back at his mother, making a decision.

"Well, Father's been teaching me about how to be stealthy and how to deliver a strong blow in my self-defense classes—I think I've got a good control over that."

The younger lion couldn't help but snort softly. His father hadn't really taught him anything in the past several months, as he only ever had time to instruct Mufasa; they were obviously no longer equals in regards to those skills, putting Taka at a distinct disadvantage.

He wasn't necessarily spiteful about this, however. The king hadn't been getting along well with him lately, so he didn't mind not spending time with his father all that much, or miss their experiences together all too terribly. As far as hunting was concerned, it wasn't his favorite hobby, and he didn't much care what they did—he was just playing along for Mufasa's sake.

So he kept quiet and still as the two kept talking, his older brother joining his mother in a series of dynamic, flexible stretches.

"That's good, then."

"Yeah, in fact… I really wanted to go on a real hunt today. I've done some mock ones already, but I'd like the actual authentic experience. I've been training hard lately and I know I could physically bring something down, no problem." The golden lion curled his body together in a strange shape as he reached and touched the toes on his hind foot. "I just really have to work on the actual hunting strategy, and perhaps polish my pounce a bit."

Uru nodded tautly, visibly impressed.

"Well… alright, then! We'll go to the hunting range, the one by the waterhole… we just have to make sure to stay out of the way of the hunting party. If we see them, that is."

"Wait, by the waterhole?" A visibly-nervous Taka spoke up suddenly, having barely caught the words in conversation. "Aren't the wild dogs there? And the hyenas?"

An astute observation. Too bad the others did not know of the stakes involved—Uru merely shrugged.

"It shouldn't be an issue. If we smell any of them, we just politely move to a more open area. It's not polite to crowd other hunters, though I'm sure you already know that, being as smart as you are, Atak."

She licked him on the head quietly, and any qualms he had about the trip melted away rather quickly. After all, he had a mother—by no means a small or weak lioness—and his big brother there, so if they did fall into a minor skirmish, it wasn't as though they would be completely helpless.

"Now, the both of you remember the basics to an approach, right? Should we practice in the grass?"

"Sure, that might help Taka here." Mufasa rolled his eyes imperceptibly. "Otherwise he'll probably make a lot of noise."

"I will not!"

"But you sure will! Sorry, but I don't want you to mess this hunt up, Taka. Who knows when we'll get another chance?"

"Mufasa, let your brother be," the mother scolded, looking slightly irate as her features were briefly and momentarily clouded… before they once again lightened as she calmly studied her younger son. "Taka, can you show me your stalk?"

He hastily lowered himself down into his version of a hunting crouch, the tufts of coarse black hair on his elbows brushing against the ground as the length of his forearm was suspended just above the ground. The young adolescent knew to sheathe his claws, so that they wouldn't make noise, and the face he wore—one clearly determined to please—was endearing, in a way. It was, all in all, not a bad pose… except for one detail.

"Taka, lower your butt down! All the animals are going to see that." Mufasa smacked his hindquarters lightly with a paw, urging him to drop his backside closer to the ground. His tail, which had hung just above the ground, shot up in surprise, like a flag.

"Mufasa, stop." Uru's voice was sharp. "Atak, dear, pretend you're doing a pushup," she offered unhelpfully.

"He can't _do _a pushup," Mufasa grumbled sourly. The lioness pretended not to hear his criticism.

"Here, watch me," she lowered down, out of a habit borne from years of hunting for a living, down to the ground, her face frozen in instinctual, killer determination. "See, Taka, how I've positioned my hind legs?" She crept forward slightly, crinkling the grass softly. "They're close to the ground. That way, when I pounce"—she snapped her back legs straight, shooting forwards with plenty of momentum and landing, gracefully and accurately, onto a nearby stone with a soft sound—"I've got plenty of leverage."

The younger lion struggled to copy her, hollowing his back as he curved his body into an awkward shape that was barely able to harness the energy in his thighs. He tried to push forward as she had, like a spring, though instead of leaping high into the air, his low, awkward skip caused him to crash into the rock with his nose with a rough _thunk_.

"… That was… close, I suppose…"

"_Ermmft," _Taka withdrew, a stream of blood trickling from his nose, complementing his suddenly irritable, angry expression. "Why do I even have to learn to do this? This is a lioness' job, and Mufasa's already better than I am, anyway."

The golden lion's face softened, realizing he may have been too hard, too competitive, in regards to this 'fun' excursion. Best not to frustrate him further—he kept his mouth shut.

"Honey… I know this is a lioness' job," Uru's voice was sympathetic, understanding. "You're going to be a prince one day, and you'll have a lot of other… duties… your father will teach you about, that you have to see to. This, however, is my contribution. Hunting helps you learn the athletic skills you'll need to survive. It helps you learn independence, and teamwork, and self-sufficiency."

Taka turned away and smeared a bit of crimson across his paw, wishing he could ignore what she was trying to tell him. But it was a good lesson, and one that he should have heeded better—that there would be times where he would have to look after himself, because there might not be anyone else to do so for him.

For now, he ignored it, still foolish in his youth and inexperience. Yet he would soon know, very well, the pain of that truth.

"Fine, whatever." He wiped his nose again, though after another moment of thinking, his expression softened. "I'm sorry for getting upset, I'm just… sorry I'm not a good hunter."

"Don't apologize to me. This is something you will learn through the rest of your life. In the end, it is something for _you_ to learn, to prove to yourself… not to Mufasa, and not to me." She nudged him softly, inciting him to his feet, and nodded curtly to her eldest.

It was time to leave. Time to leave, innocently and unknowingly enough, to the 'fun' hunt that would ruin them all. On her face was the smile he would never forget, when he looked back on that day. One so genuinely harmless, so truly gratified, as she marched off into certain chaos, as she sacrificed herself into the flames. It was almost as though she knew, clairvoyantly, of what was to come. And still she smiled that angelic smile, from ear to ear, an easy mirth rumbling from her chest.

It matched a soft cackle coming from far away, from the crest of a hill they couldn't see, from the throat of a brute they would never know. Two brick-red eyes studied the scene, laughing in sick pleasure as he motioned to a compatriot, gradually moving his eyes from his future victims.

"Ay, my chap, _it is time_. We've got the two cubs… and someone _much better _'n that old kipper, Ahadi." A sadistic, crazed grin broke through any placidity his exterior had held, spreading his jaws and exposing the canine's lupine-like fangs. "Eh, this is good… no, _great! _Tell the 'ole entire PACK! _Today we shake this kingdom_ _to its KNEES! AHAHAHAHA!_"

In the wake of all disaster, the royal family was truly blind.

* * *

><p>"Taka, go right. Keep the herd away from the open savannah. Mufasa will go to the left. And I'll run in from behind. That way, when they approach the gorge, they'll have no choice but to scatter. Just be sure to get <em>well <em>out of the way when that happens."

"Got it, Mom."

"Would you like to go in for the kill?" The lioness motioned to her eldest son.

The golden lion kept a veil of civility and politeness, looking knowingly into his brother's narrowed green eyes. He kept his stare for several moments, and the younger lion said nothing, not understanding the gaze until Mufasa cleared his throat loudly, as though expecting an answer.

"Oh? You're asking me if I want to?"

The older brother huffed. "No, it's _allergies_, Taka. What do you think?"

He let out a breath in surprise, with no expression on his darkened visage for a couple of seconds… until the bright edges of a smile broke through his chronically-stormy, moody expression. Though the hunting teams relied heavily on each other, and every hunter played an important role, the one who actually killed the animal was performing, practically and symbolically, the most central, dramatic, and dangerous part. In ceremonial hunts, it was left to the king, and great honor was given to whomever could disarm and bring down a large animal.

And they wanted _him _to do _that?_

"It's just a zebra, Taka, I'm sure you can do it," Mufasa interjected, as though reading his thoughts through his pleased and yet troubled expression.

"There's absolutely no pressure, Atak. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"I… I think I can handle it."

"Good," the lioness smiled. "If you run into any trouble, or she doesn't fall right away, we'll come help you, alright?"

"Alright."

"You remember which one we're going after, yes?"

"Uhhhh…" Taka paled suddenly. He hadn't been paying much attention to that part, having assumed that his job would be nothing more than running alongside the herd in some direction. He didn't think that he would have to _specifically _need to bring one individual animal down. And when he looked out into the sea of their quarry—zebra, _figures_—he couldn't help but squint. Distinguishing one animal from another proved incredibly difficult in such a tightly-packed herd.

Mufasa noted his difficulty, and his delayed answer, with some amount of bored vexation.

"Taka, it's the mare. The one favoring her off hind leg."

"Mare? What's a mare?"

"Oh, _spirits_," Mufasa was rapidly losing his patience, and could not hide his irritated expression. He rubbed his eyes with a paw, not deigning to say anything for a moment. "It's a female zebra, Taka!"

His tone still came out loud, despite his best efforts. Their equine prey began looking flighty, walking about with a nervous, twitchy step as their ears flicked to and fro like little fraught birds perched on the crests of their necks.

"_Mufasa, keep your voice down!_" The lioness hissed, maintaining her hunting crouch. "Atak," she spoke quickly and harshly, her eyes narrowing and her personality lapsing into its usual role as leader of the hunt while she barked out orders, "you'll probably see her—she's got three good legs, so she will definitely lag. Now we have to move fast, yet silent. Get into your positions and nod when you're ready. When I give the signal, sprint to your places. Understood?"

"Alright," Taka whispered as quietly as he could, barely able to discern the sound of his own words underneath the steadily-increasing pounding of his pacing, racing heart. He felt at least as high-strung as the zebras, his emotions and perceptions swirling into a surreal blend as he crawled to his place without even noticing. His paws padded softly in the dirt, though they made almost no noise aside from that. The herd stood before him, a mass of black and white.

And, hopefully soon, red.

If he hadn't known that his mother and brother were in the grass, he would never have seen them. His pupils narrowed as he tried to find them, his mother a nearly-invisible dot of darkness amongst the soft browns and yellows of the savannah.

He couldn't see Mufasa at all—not only did he blend into the grass, but he was supposed to move to the other side of the herd, anyways. There was no way he could know when the hunt was to begin, aside from studying his mother.

The young adolescent approached his position, and it was a wonder that the ungulates before him couldn't hear his frantic heartbeat with their large, swiveling ears. He was close enough to see the individual patterns of stripes, the whorls in each of their coats as the hair swirled and changed color and direction… the dark hues of their eyes, open and studious as they strutted nervously. A stallion walked particularly close, and he saw the wrought emotion and nervousness in the equid's eyes.

Taka gave a curt nod as a signal, barely even noticing the action. It was done mechanically, distantly… almost as though he were watching another lion doing it, instead of doing it himself.

He lost sight of his mother for a moment. Oh, no. The lion perked up in fright, a prickle of sweat sprouting on the nape of his neck under his budding mane. It was all he could do not to jerk his head around frantically in a series of sharp, sudden moves. And then, just like that, the zebras bolted on fleet feet, hooves flying and kicking up dirt.

His nerves twitched into action, and he ran—just as quickly, and just as much from reflexes. But he was already behind, forced to watch with dismay as the dark form of his mother bounded in a wild sprint, determined and spirited and already several paces ahead of him. He was rapidly losing ground.

_Thwump, thwump, thwump_, the ground thudded as a thunder of paws rapidly pounded against the dirt, their owner no longer paying attention to his own stride, and no longer under the obligation to keep silent. He allowed them to make as much noise as they wanted, unsheathing his claws so that they acted like cleats on the tough, parched turf and soil, and so that he could bring down his target when it was time. Harder he tried to push himself, faster he tried to run… but his scrawny body was already moving as quickly as his limbs would allow.

He saw the quiet old mare trying to gallop apace, to keep up with her herdmates… but, as Uru had predicted, they were leaving her behind in frightened, unified self-interest. Better one be sacrificed, after all, then the entire herd be endangered. The whole of them bolted off, seeing the canyon ahead and whirling around, trying to find exit by moving to the right.

The mass of them, once tightly packed, began to spill like a living, breathing rush of fleshy liquid to the side. Their hooves churned, tearing up the plants and threatening to do the same to anything in their way. Taka was struck in awe—that is, until the harsh and panicked voice of his mother came from somewhere up ahead of him.

"_TAKA_, DON'T LET THEM GO! KEEP THEM _TOGETHER_!"

A momentary spike of shock and frustration jolted through his entire being, before he tried to push himself harder. Uru looked left, seeing Mufasa keep pace and perform his job impeccably, and then looked to the right, at her struggling younger son. With a sharp breath, she made her decision. The golden lion would be fine. She slowed her pace momentarily, pivoting and bolting towards Taka, long enough to let out another order.

"Taka, take my place!"

He slowed down and moved into position behind them, trying to take her place, while she sped up, struggling to herd them into a tight, torpedo-like shape once again. But it was too late. They had seen their opening, the weak link in the chain, and there was no closing that door as more and more zebras flooded out in a panic. They bucked and kicked and called out while they leapt and reared and ran about chaotically, hoping to disperse out into the vast plains beyond.

The deadliness of the situation augmented as the zebras, dazed and utterly rabid in their wild, infectious terror, approached the ravine, the leaders of the herd stopping at the brim and then—not wishing to stand still for even a second—turning and pivoting around with a violent quickness, scattering in any direction they could find in order to escape. Most of them stayed well away from Mufasa, who had paced and bristled and snarled at the edge of the ledge, with the majority continuing through the gap to the right or simply regressing back the way they had come, in a tightly-packed mass of chaos and horseflesh. Their numbers manifested as a virile strength, trapping Taka in a wrathful embrace as they split and streamed all around him. And Uru, who had been running straight beside the zebras, was now faced with a barrage of their returning figures, so fiery and unflappable as a whole that even an entire pride of lions would have fled with haste.

The lioness' face drooped in realization. She knew, all too well, what this was, and she understood the presence of the danger now assailing them. Her reaction was immediate, as she turned to her son and ordered him, in no uncertain terms, to run away.

Stampede.

Taka stood in momentary horror, his body frozen and unable to do anything. The beasts, trickled by him, most of them coiling up and giving a great prance over him, their front limbs pressing into their sweaty chests and their muscles roiling and snapping back and forth in agitation. They sailed over him easily as they jumped, and others moved off to the sides… but it was only a matter of time before one of the clumsier members of the herd struck him with a hoof, knocking him out of his daze. He collided with the ground before springing upright in shock, whirling around and noticing that more and more zebras were coming, more and more of them were closing in all around him.

Finally he decided to join them, physically and emotionally, his heart screaming and thumping around with instinctual, primeval fear as he galloped alongside them. The feeling flowed through each of them, uniting the hunter and the hunted, the predator and the prey. For Taka, any realization that he and his family were the ones to cause the zebras' fear was forgotten—the only salient fact was that they were all afraid. They could all feel it, bubbling and boiling and threatening to burst forth, like a contagious and virulent disease spreading to the cores of each and every one of them.

His breath came quick and labored and heavy. His muscles burned and bunched and cramped, screaming in visceral pain. But there was no slowing down.

"MOM! … _MOM_!" He cried, his jaws barely able to pry themselves apart and belt the words from his trembling, quivering muzzle. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The lion could barely hear his own screams above the deafening chorus of hooves beating the earth with a great, hollow sound. His own paws were rocking back and forth, trying their utmost to whisk him away, to carry him far from the wretched position he was in, but it was to no avail. He saw nothing and no one—not Mufasa, not his mother. He was trapped, utterly, until the storm blew over. In the meantime, he could only try his utmost to survive.

But oh, who was he kidding? Whether he lived or died, he was not in control. He was powerless under the whims of the storm around him. No matter what he did, his life was in the hands of luck: if he was not struck down by a wayward hoof, he was fortunate.

Or, as the case may have been, unfortunate. For although he could feel nothing then except the primeval urge to live, when he reviewed the event from the impassive, detached distance that the passage of time offered him, he could only have thought that it would have been better to die.

It was a curse that he survived, but to a young lion frightened more than he'd ever been, before and perhaps even since, it was a great relief and a blessing. A freeing of a burden from his shoulders.

Only for the weight of the world to subsequently be thrust upon him.

He was still running long after the last zebra had passed him. And when he finally stopped, bristling and sweaty and still experiencing the world through the blurry and frightening lens that adrenaline offered him, there was no immediate sign of his mother. Only Mufasa, who approached Taka with a blunt anger that could neither be hidden or denied.

"What the hell was _that_? Where's Mother?!"

"I'm sorry," Taka shook and shuddered like a wet, mewling kitten, still shaken to his very center. His spirit had been disarmed, subjugated under the rule of his briefly-overpowering emotions. "I-I-I don't know, s-she volunteered to go behind, I-I couldn't—"

"WHAT? Where is she?" Mufasa jumped up, rearing on his hind legs in energy and anxiety in an attempt to spot Uru, no doubt with heightened emotions as well… He cast a glance at his brother, looking worried, and again paced back and forth, craning his head and looking intently, nervously…

"_Oh_, thank the spirits!" He broke off into a sprint, and the younger lion tagged along behind, despite the fact that he could barely keep up. Mufasa skidded to a halt in front of their mother, who was limping along and visibly biting back tears in a twisted, ugly grimace. Her ragged pelt was drenched in blood and dirt, her entire figure looking beaten and worn as she collapsed on the ground, her chest heaving.

Mufasa and Taka shared a glance, the fear in their eyes resurfacing as a visible spark… only this time it was a different kind of fear, borne out of emotional distress rather than physical danger.

"Thank the spirits," he repeated in a whisper, "oh, thank the spirits. Thank them, you're okay, thank the spirits…"

The golden lion promptly wrapped his mother in a hug as she panted, relieved to see that she was alright. Even he, as strong and taciturn as his façade often was, could not suppress the moisture coming to his own eyes as he embraced her.

Her wounds, though nasty, were not fatal. A great gash stretched across her chest and down her leg, bleeding copiously, and neither sibling could even guess as to how it got there. She was visibly struggling with one of her limbs, which had been kicked—already the joint was swelling and growing hot to the touch, the skin under it taut and red and inflamed. She dammed back her pain behind a lattice of stiff, interlocked teeth, and her eyes were also scrunched shut, as though opening them would release a wave of pain.

For several moments, she could say nothing, though when she finally did speak, it was with words of reassurance, muffled and barely coherent between weighted breaths.

"… N… not… yo… your f… your f… fault, A-A-tak. Not… yourf… rr… fault."

"Not his fault?" Mufasa whirled around, his feelings still inflated and prone to being rubbed the wrong way—never a good sign where anger was involved. Already his amber eyes were narrowed in barely-restrained fury, black pupils dilated like vast, abyssal pits. Uru could not contain him. "You ruined this whole damn hunt! You got in the way and you could have killed _all of us!_"

"_Mufasa, _what are you talking about?" Taka quavered, though his fear was quickly giving way, morphing and shifting once again, so that it matched the nature of the infectious milieu in the terse, constricted air. "I tried my best!"

"That's fresh _ass tripe_, Taka! You don't think I saw you retreat back behind them? What were you, _scared_? Thought you'd let them run over the rest of us?" He spat on the ground, a great gobbet of saliva slicking the earth as he stared down his younger sibling, looking outraged. "You're so damn _selfish_."

That was the breaking point. Taka whirled around, feeling slighted and encroached upon from all sides. His emotions were not rational.

But they did not need to be.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you? To make me look bad!" The younger lion crouched and showed his fangs, exposed in time with his expression of wounded-animal pain and outrage. "You know I hate hunting, but you took me anyway! You _insisted_ I go! _This _was your plan all along!"

"What? No!"

"You did this… and _you…_" he turned to face his mother, tears spilling forth from his eyes for no apparent reason, aside from the writhing anger, the unbelievable terror, the terrible fright swimming in his insides, threatening to tear him apart. "You went along with it. You did it. You ALL did it, _ALL ON PURPOSE! I HATE you, I hate ALL of you!"_

He snapped. And without knowing why, he turned around and fled, his paws beating against the ground with such speed that even Mufasa was unprepared to fall back and chase him down the plains, to refute what he had said.

For beneath his anger, there was pain. And sensitivity. And hurt.

"W… w… wait," Uru touched Mufasa's paw with her own, and he stood there dutifully, attentively. "This… was my fault. I shouldn't have… taken you on a real hunt… Not… now… during these times. So… dangerous… right now…"

"What do you mean? I could have handled it on my own. He ruined it, Mother, he—"

"_Shhh…_" she shushed him, "don't point fingers. This was nobody's…" she gritted her teeth again, holding back a fresh surge of pain, "… nobody's fault. This was supposed to be… fun. Mistakes happen."

"Yes, b—"

"No… no buts. He… couldn't have known. I told him… to go back." She looked down on the ground, letting out a great, labored breath. "Please… find him. I don't… want him alone. Getting hurt."

Mufasa looked down, his pensive expression highlighted by the chestnut strands of mane falling in front of his ears, rustling in the wind as the line of his lips stretched, straight and long, across his jaws, which were pressed tightly in regret. Regret that he lost his temper so rapidly, with barely any provocation at all.

It was neither the first nor the last time that he would feel such regret.

This was all a misunderstanding, which he had prolonged with his overreaction. He was simply afraid, scared that Uru was seriously hurt. She wasn't—not yet. But they'd both been frightened, and he should have realized that. Should have stopped himself before he said something that he did not intend to…

"I… I have to find him. I have to fix this. Will you be okay?"

"Y-Yes… I'll be fine." Uru staggered to her feet, her paw pressed against her chest as she lifted her entire front leg in an exaggeratedly-bent shape, her whole figure off-balance as she pushed herself forwards, limping weakly towards Pride Rock. Luckily, it wasn't far.

Which made perpetrating the deplorable crime even easier.

It was the last time Mufasa would see his mother intact. A shame, then, that he couldn't see the eyes, glinting in malice and destructiveness, not even a hundred feet away…

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading the chappie! Hopefully it was lucid and sensical, even if I am not right now. Being up late is great but weird, I swear I'm not even tired! And it's 4:34. Sweet cool.<em>

_I also made a cake today and have a new tie-dye shirt I made so I CANNOT complain! Review and it'll be even better, I swear I love all your reviews. You're all so great. Thanks for reading and putting up with me. XD_

_Oh and this chapter title is the reference to the movie cause I guess I thought of James Bond and how his whole life came crashing down and his parents died. Last chapter was named after the song by Linkin Park because it describes Nyota... and like all the characters in that chapter now that I think bout it... so yeah listen to that if you haven't._

_If I've already mentioned that song somewhere then please ignore me! :P_

_Hasta luego. /3_

Twin :)


	46. Skyfall II

_**A/N:**_

_So, by the one-update-a-week standard, I'm a few days late, but in comparison to 90% of the updates I've given you guys, this one is still in pretty good time. So you're welcome._

_Wow, what a week though. I swear, I haven't had this much of a good time since... since... God, I don't even know how to answer that since high school sucks most of the time. *derpface* That said, though, I did some pretty awesome things. Got a dime, saw the badass mother of all rainbows, started for the first time ever in a lacrosse game, played lax hard in the rain, played lax some more, hung out with teammates, got candy, saw friends for Easter, stayed home from school (for the first time all month! Gee whiz, I deserve a medal!) ... You know, it just makes me wonder..._

_WHY CAN'T EVERY DAMN WEEK BE LIKE THIS?! _

_But anyways, enough of me... let's go to you guys. :) How was your Easter? Was it... I dunno... enjoyable? Good? Then that's good._

_Reviews._

**_DancingKitKat:_**_ Thanks! It was a fun chapter to write, especially the adrenaline with the stampede. With those sorts of scenes, I honestly just let my fingers type and let the words flow and see where it goes, often with no changes or edits later. It's super fun. XD There's a lot of scenes like that this chapter in fact. Ooooh, they're just so great... *bounces in excitement* _

**_Fluffy Hug:_**_ Poor Scar indeed. ;( I felt really bad for him while writing this chapter. That said, I would love it if you kept reading and reviewing, but I can't promise that things will get any better for him for a while. My dearest apologies to both you, the reader, and Scar, the object of my created torment. :/_

**_Lord of the Swords:_**_ Because we are, in a sense. I kind of spitballed the other day and thought up rough plans for the remaining chapters, and that puts my final estimate at some... er... sixty chapters? Of course, I always, always, *always* underestimate every time I do that, but I tried to take that into account this time. The neverending story will soon reach its climax and its denouement. _

**_pokeking95:_**_ I always get like that, and I don't know why. Usually it goes something like *procrastinates for weeks* *gets bright idea* *has a writing-plosion for ten hours* *publishes chapter at 2 AM* Almost always, in fact. My main focus right now is on trimming down that first phase - I doubt I'll be able to change the rest. Old habits die hard, you know._

_I don't blame you if last chapter wasn't your favorite chapter, just like I wouldn't blame you if you told me that the Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug wasn't your favorite movie. I mean honestly, it felt weird to chop it in half, but that chapter was 7k words and this one's about 7.3. If I'd continued, it'd be even worse in regards to length. Hopefully, though, this one will be the better of the two content-wise. Regarding Taka: It was a bit awkward for me to pinpoint his age, exactly. I'd put him, in human terms, at about 12 or 13. So he's still got a bit of growing and maturing to do. Generally, the major changes in Scar/Taka's personality occur later in my version of his past then in other peoples'. I know that some authors have him get his scar and become bitter at a young age, but I wanted to highlight that a lot of his personality was a direct result of specific, traumatic events during his childhood, so I made him a bit older. _

_*author-explanation over* Anyways, yes, you're welcome! I greatly enjoyed Danse Macabre. :) I'll respond to your PM soon. Oh, and PS ... if I were drunk, I'd probably be the crazy drunk laughing at everything and swinging on the chandelier or something. xD I was on such a damn sugar high after eating leftover home-made frosting, and I had a headache from that, so that's probably why I was acting that way. lol_

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Okay, I probably know all of one line to that song, so... yeah, you got me beat. xD And I'm glad that your week has been good! Ireland sounds like fun. :) And no, that's not weird at all, I get excited when I get alert emails because I love reading updates most of the time. xP_

_And yeah, I kind of figured I was crazy. Like I said, I get writing-plosions, and once that starts there's no stopping them... Period. So 4 AM is a pretty good stopping point for me. I love the voices, though... they help me get things done *huggles insomniac voices*_

_Soanywayyeah, my back thanks you for not whipping me. And thanks so much, I'm really glad to hear that it's like art to you. :)_

_PS If you see Snappy in Ireland, tell him I said hi. I haven't heard from him lately. xD_

**_mom:_**_ Yup, it was a crazy sugar rush, it was. I swear, though, I've been really crazy and pumped up for the past few days, as though I were on a continual sugar rush, so my friends probably think there's something wrong with me by now. Yeah. xP _

_Fun times, though, fun times. I'll have to bring a container of chocolate frosting for next Saturday night. *gleeful expression*_

**_Night-Waker:_**_ Oh, right, I forgot that part. And then she spit on him and took a dump on his face before he died. NOW are you happy?! :D lol jk I'm sure you are. _

_Speaking of beating up people and killing them horribly, I think Pinkie Pie is going to go through some murdering in the next five minutes, with the object of her stare being the victim. Too bad we can't see whoever is behind the camera, so to speak... :/ I feel for that poor soul._

**_Guest: _**_Hola, newcomer. :P Thanks for commenting._

_Yes, DRCS... he's quite malicious, alright. I'm glad that you enjoy his presence as a malign character. I've never tried to read his lines in Simba's voice before, but once you mentioned it, I had to try... creepy, I agree. o.o_

_Ah, so another person has noticed the Scar-Loki/Mufasa-Thor connection? XD I've seen that brought up a lot lately, and I always _did _like Loki... that said, though, yes, I think the stampede, and a lot of the things he did in movie, were things that he remembered being done to him in his childhood. I think Scar would be the type to relish in bitter irony like that. I make another movie reference like that this chapter, so I'm hoping you guys will get a kick out of it. :3_

_Oh, and yes, the wild dogs' absence will be rectified indeed. They'll be back, so don't worry. I hope you stick around and keep reading as well. ^^_

**_BlackLouie:_**_ Oh, if that was sad, this is going to be even sadder, I'm sorry to say. :/ It doesn't really turn around for a while. I hope you enjoy, regardless._

* * *

><p>"<em>C'mon<em>, Jiraha, what the hell're you so _worried _about? Damn thing's right in plain sight!"

"I know… but… it still makes me nervous…" his voice trembled slightly, in a show of fear uncharacteristic of his species' reputation. His companion sneered in response, the edges of his lips twisting into vaguely contemptuous expression. "Kafara, I'm sorry, butcha know 'bout all them new hunting laws the king's passed. He's bonkers. Nuts. We're on the edges of the huntin' patch's it is."

Kafara made an obvious point in return by licking his grizzled muzzle with a pale-colored tongue, not concealing the fact that he was absolutely ravenous.

"When's the next time we're gonna see an injured gazelle jus' trompin' along in this cursed drought? You tell me _that, _Jiraha! I swear I oughta slap some sense inta ya little head."

The younger one of them whimpered, as though struck, and finally relented, not wishing to see the business end of his elder's claws. Besides, he was right—this was a rare opportunity, and between the two of them, bringing down the awkwardly alone, limping, lame antelope doe would be quick work.

He could only wonder, with some hint of suspicion, why such easy prey would be wandering so far away from the herd. Indeed, their quarry wasn't even grazing: she was just pacing, stomping, pawing, all the while with a fraught look in her eye. It made the prudent Jiraha nervous. Wary.

But then again, he reminded himself, what vulnerable animal _wouldn't _be rightfully flighty in such a situation?

"A-okay then. I suppose I ain't got no choice—I'll help ya out." He smiled softly. "Besides, that's what family does, right?"

Kafara nodded tersely, his own bleak way of showing acknowledgment. It was, indeed, a vague way of demonstrating understanding, but Jiraha knew he agreed and reciprocated, too. They both lowered themselves down into a haphazard hunting crouch and prepared for the usual routine. The elder nodded, and inwardly they both counted to three.

That was all the pair needed. They'd hunted together many times before, and this… well, this was simply easy pickings!

All at once, with a rehearsed synchronicity that befitted their deftest skills, they leapt out of the brush and charged the gazelle. She perked up and bolted, frightened by the sight of two ravaging hyenas chasing after her, but she doubtlessly must have known it was over as much as they did.

She dodged left. They saw through it. With a quick, effortless move, Jiraha flanked that side, driving her into a slower, yet ruthlessly-efficient Kafara. The latter leapt up swiftly, his narrow, triangular jaws parting until the moment when he could sink his teeth into her throat. He did so, almost instantly. There was no chance for her.

He twisted his head, snapping her neck. She twitched, bucking and kicking out with a hind leg, but her torso went limp and she fell, flat and helpless, into a crumpled heap. Blood gurgled out of the wound, crimson and messy, gaping under her chin, and her mouth hung open, limp and contorted into a fuzzed expression that did no justice to the waves of shock and terror pulsing through her moribund system. There was not even a cry.

The hyena brothers released their prey and studied their handiwork. Aside from the gruesome puddle of gore blood on the ground, it was smooth and skillful for a job done by hyenas. She was spotless, free and clean and warm and ready to be devoured. There was almost no injury to her frail, graceful form, aside from the wound on her throat and her gimpy leg. Her gimpy leg that, on closer inspection, appeared somewhat strange…

"Hey, Kafara…" Jiraha addressed his companion, who looked up from the meal he was about to dig into with a somewhat irritated expression lying, taut and glaring, above a bloody snout. "… Didja see her leg?"

"No," he responded gruffly, "why?"

"Well, you should see this…"

Kafara sighed, knowing they didn't have long to devour their kill regardless of how many anti-poaching, anti-piracy laws Ahadi decreed. He took a quick glance at the twisted limb, not seeing anything suspicious for a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Look… 'm I the only one that sees little claw marks over there? Look close, by her tail…"

"What the hell?" The elder furrowed his brows together in a visible grimace, as though suddenly realizing what his brother was talking about. "Dammit all, you're right. Why'd there be claw marks? Why'd…"

"… It was done on purpose, her leg…" Jiraha trailed off in response. Their eyes met for a terse moment in understanding…

But it was already too late.

"'EY! 'EY! You damn blighters, over there! Thieves!"

"'EY! Don't you dare t' walk away from us! You best look us'n the eyes!"

Two wild dogs, irate and angry beyond belief if their appearances were to tell anything, marched towards them, an aggressive glint in their darkened, cloudy eyes. Jiraha backed up in surprise, recognizing the wizened and spindly figure of Ulaghai himself, while Kafara only stood his ground solemnly, trying to ignore the fact that they were now running a very real, very present risk.

There was no telling what Ulaghai would do.

"'EY! Thieves! Yeah, 'tis right, we're talking t' YOU!"

"_Spirits damn their kind_," Kafara swore under his breath, his expression hard. And then, in a louder and more forceful tone: "Whaddya talking about? We saw this gazelle, and she's _ours. _Now get out—we'll fight!"

"Uh, yeah…!" Jiraha straightened himself out boldly, attempting to stifle his initial reaction to shrink back and cower.

"Oh, _your gazelle_, eh?" Ulaghai's parched, chapped lips crinkled in disgust, though there was a brief flicker of malicious _playfulness _beaming, distinct and indignant, in his blazing, rubicund eyes. His younger canine companion flanked him, the little dog's nervousness overshadowed by complete confidence in his elder's plan. "Let's see what the _queen _thinks of that one, eh? Or the king, perhaps?"

"We'll pound ya sorry faces inta the ground, now light a fire unda ya cowardly tails and _leave_."

Ulaghai looked deftly to the left, to the right… the area seemed deserted, as usual, but he knew the queen was nearby. His team of wild dogs had been smart in leaving the injured gazelle at the right spot, at the right time… the work had been clean. The monarchs would never know. He gave a soft smirk, barely noticeable, and raised his voice profoundly. His accomplice barked, fur bristling.

"_You_ _are no more than filthy hyenas! What right 'ave you t' tell me t' leave? _All 'a your lot are sad, pathetic excuses f'r animals! _THIEVES, you are!_"

The eldest hyena took the bait readily enough, unleashing a fierce snarl, though Jiraha was less sure of this, of this sudden affront, of their brash confidence. Something here wasn't right. Something just… didn't add up.

"Kafara…"

"Ya dogs are just stupid brutes..." the hyena by that name retorted darkly, expression foreboding, "… I toldja to leave, and I _ain't _gonna ask again… If it's a fight ya want, you're sure damn well gonna _GET ONE._"

"Kafara…"

"_WHAT?!"_

The four of them all froze—the elder brother with a look of contempt and irritation, the two dogs in a well-played look of silent, burning fury. It was a stand-still for several moments, though the air was a taut wire, ready to snap. Ready to send their world tumbling down into chaos. The dogs hid their gleeful anticipation, Ulaghai's kneading claws being the only condemning evidence regarding his clairvoyance…

Until they heard the voice that made the canines' blood run hot with fire, and the hyenas' run cold with trepidation…

"What on earth is all this racket?"

A normally kind voice, distorted with pain and disappointment, broke out nearby, the dark form of a lioness slinking along as quickly as her disfigured body would allow. She was in better shape than she was when Ulaghai had last seen her, having suppressed the initial shock of her wounds, but despite this she was still limping awkwardly.

The lead dog could barely hide his pleasure.

"Ah, the dear queen, Uru," he bowed down low, treacherous fangs glinting in what appeared to be a smile, his haunting eyes squeezed shut. "How well of you to come, eh? Well, me and my friend 'ere were just bemoaning the lack of y'r splendid presence, weren't we, Kufuata?"

The grizzled leader of the dog pack nudged his younger companion in the ribs, eliciting a sharp squeak and a rushed series of silent nods. Ulaghai only grinned deceitfully, much more composed and in control, as always.

Slowly the lioness' eyes narrowed. He reminded her of a dog that her husband was always talking about… and from what the lion had said, she knew better than to trust a word that came out of his mouth, no matter how gallant and sporting he may have seemed.

After all, better to be safe than sorry.

"What happened here?" Her eyes narrowed in an uncharacteristic harshness, frozen in a coldness that rarely graced them. She was scrutinizing, all-seeing, wise…

A shame, Ulaghai thought with inward mirth, his tail wagging softly in pleasure, that it would do her no good…

"We were jus' huntin' and we came across this wounded antelope. We swear we di'n't know!" Jiraha spoke up in one last effort to defer their fates, but it was far too late for that. Ulaghai was poised above them all, his paws fondling the executioner's blade that would come down, in one ready sweep, across each of his enemies' necks.

And anyone who stood in his way was his enemy, regardless of their innocence… or lack thereof…

"Damned… _thieves_…" The dog chief's serpent tongue flickered as his fangs showed themselves softly, gobbets of saliva glinting in the sun. "… punish these hyenas. They're nothing but _worthless, useless, inept, _incompetent—"

"That's IT!" Kafara erupted, with all the hot show of temper characteristic of his species. He leapt straight at Ulaghai, ignorant to everything, his vision blurred and contorted into seeming shades of red, of anger, of indignant rage…

Too bad it would get them nowhere.

Kufuata leapt at the hyena, though he knew that he stood no chance against the muscular brute—it was solely enough to buy time. Ulaghai deftly leapt to the side, briefly going for Jiraha despite that fact that he was, at all times, keeping a sharp eye on the queen.

He knew she would intervene. And right he was.

"Stop it! Stop!" She staggered in, and Ulaghai, the dastardly pup who, in all his years and knowledge, was still just as depraved, still just as angry, charted his course of action. Wisdom and age had not tamed his deadly spirit, his wicked intentions. Alas, it was a simple move, calculating, and if doing it caused him any remorse, he never showed it. It was all forever unknown, hidden beneath his frigid exterior, and in the end, his actions were simply expressions of his coldness… they caused him no pain, no discomfort.

It was simply who he was.

The queen physically stepped in between them—her mistake—and had only a moment to look, a moment to retreat. Her injured leg didn't help her escape; running away would only have caused her to stumble and fall. In a moment Ulaghai had leapt forward, with a spontaneity that caught them all, including his accomplice, by complete surprise. He whirled about, pretending briefly and unconvincingly to have failed to hit the younger hyena… but his claws reached their true target in a moment's time.

His nails swiped across Uru's throat in a quick move. Her jugular was instantly ruptured by the sharp points cutting through the delicate skin and scant flesh there. She gasped. There was no time. Like the gazelle, she crumpled to the floor, breathless, before she, too, started in with a series of spasms, gasping and heaving and wriggling like a fish. She said nothing in protest—she physically couldn't. Not then.

Ulaghai grinned, throwing his head back in a sick, lupine cackle. His charade was over. The hyenas had stopped, shocked speechless by the scene as he set down his bloody paws...

"What… what the _hell_?!"

"You killed the queen!"

"_Or did I_?" he blurted out in his wild mirth, a crazed, rabid glow flickering in his eyes as his heart leapt forth with indignant emotion, with virulent anger. "_You _started this confrontation, mate… Uru just… just _got in my way! _What can I say?"

He simpered and cocked his head, tail curling around him and shaking softly in a feigned expression of innocence. But his greasy frown fooled no one.

"_You… _you're sick."

They were too shocked to say or do anything else but simmer in anger through their narrowed eyes, and at their hesitation, Ulaghai could only suppress another violently exuberant laugh at their expense. It was time to leave.

"Have fun, you blighters! I know Ahadi's going t' have a party… with y'r skins as the streamers! _Ahahahahaha!_"

The two canines bolted, and it was only then—as the perpetrators were already speeding away, fleet feet thumping hard against the rocky ground—that they realized, with a shudder of terror, that it had been set up that way all along.

They'd been framed.

Their jaws drooped, and they could do nothing. There would be no trace of the dogs' faint scent under that of the gazelle, and as for the hyenas… their footprints in the muddy ground, where they had been walking before, were clearly marked, as they now noticed. Their odor, their presence… it would all be easily detected, whereas the murderers would have disappeared into obscurity, masked by their speedy and carefully-executed entrance and exit.

They stood no chance. The queen was already on her way out, panting with shock in a vain attempt to catch her breath… even as Jiraha licked the wounds on her throat, diluting the spurts of blood in more and more saliva in an attempt to heal the hurt. Better that she live long enough to prove their innocence, to get them out of this mess…

But he knew that was no use.

"What… whadda we do?" Jiraha's eyes glimmered with fear. He straightened up. "Kafara… whadda… whadda we gonna do?"

"I dunno," he trembled softly, anger and fear flashing through in a rare show of panic. He truly didn't.

He looked at Uru, gasping and writhing in throes of shock as death seized her with an iron grip. There were sparks of visceral terror lighting up her fading brown eyes, trails of bloody saliva frothing at the corners of her mouth as she grappled with the nebulous unknown. And then, with a nod shared between the two of them, the hyenas fled, as quickly as they could.

Both males retreated, but they knew there was no chance for them. At the edge of their vision, there was a flicker of gold, a panicked cry… they pinned back their ears, trying to hear the lioness fading behind as she groped for the final, parting words to give to her son. She groaned in surprise, and they—the scapegoats—hoped, vainly, for some acquitting words, something that would prove their innocence. But she could only barely speak, in a croak so hoarse it was a wonder they heard it at all.

"… Muf… Muffy, tell… tell Tak… Tak… that… I love…" she coughed, glimmering rivulets of blood dripping from her lips, "love him…"

Her head flopped to the ground with a soft _thud_, all life departing her form alongside that last wisp of air, that last exhalation. Those soft brown eyes, once so full of life and love, were blank and perpetually clouded. And then there was the cry, so loud and pained that they could hear it, despite its distance, above their crazed footsteps.

"_MOTHER, NOOOOOOooooooooooo!"_

They bolted through the grass. But they knew that there would be no mercy for them.

* * *

><p>Taka wasn't sure why he returned there. Perhaps he shouldn't have. But he'd heard the roar—his brother's roar, unusually loud, unusually pain-stricken… and he knew that something was amiss. Something real. Something serious.<p>

It was a hard choice, for he was still angry, but already he had come to regret his outburst more and more. Where there was once self-righteous rage, now there was increasingly a sense of shame. Who was he to erupt so suddenly, with so little provocation? His brother had every right to be worried, to be frightened… who wouldn't have been, in his position?

But alas, there had been no reason behind it. Only that sense of hurt, of pride, of violation. And there was sure to be more wherever he'd gone, for he could still hear, clearly and lucidly, the insidious little voice in the back of his mind, replaying and revisiting the reality of mistakes freshly made.

_I hate you… I hate all of you… I hate you… I hate all of you… I hate you… hate you… hate you…_

It thrummed continuously, as though unaware of its fundamental untruth. He did care, very much, and he loved, very much.

That was why he went back.

His throbbing limbs pushed back up the hill, and he wavered in the grass, unknowing, unseeing… though he could detect the stench of blood permeating through every waft of gentle air. The sun caressed his sticky, sweaty back, smiling softly, trying to cover and annul the dolorous notes of sorrow that were interrupting an otherwise peaceful afternoon.

Sobbing. Mufasa.

No, that was wrong.

His face fell, brain barely making its tenuous connection as he leapt and jumped spryly forwards, closing the rest of the distance separating them. A cry there spooked him, and when the last patch of grass buckled and bent before his urgent step, he was shocked by what he saw.

"Mufasa…? Muffy, what… oh, no…"

A moment of silence. Of fear. Of vast nothingness. A moment of pure, unrestricted shock, as though he'd been socked in the gut by a fist made of iron. He said nothing for a long moment. In fact, neither of them did. They didn't need to.

Her body was crumpled, frozen there with a vitally dead expression. Mufasa was nudging her and nuzzling her, crying into her fur, but she wasn't moving, wasn't giving any expression that she understood. She was only staring, forever, into the sun, as though smiling back.

Taka broke right there. He'd never seen Mufasa cry, at least not since they were very young, and seeing his support, his statue, so utterly crumbled… there was nothing he could do. He grimaced, teeth effortlessly drawing blood as they sunk into his lip, but he barely noticed. Its faint, metallic odor was drowned out by the scene before him.

He felt Mufasa's arms around him, but barely registered the touch. He didn't pull away, he only stood placidly, legs trembling, nose sniffling and contorting into an unrecognizable shape. Already tendrils of clear, runny phlegm dripped from his nose, slicking the soft ground and providing evidence of his sorrow.

There was no strength to speak. There was only enough for a series of subtle, primeval gesticulations, each of which spoke volumes.

_I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry…_

Taka finally gripped his brother around the waist, cementing their embrace, and rested his head against the golden lion's chest. It was heaving, uncomfortably, and it hurt him to see it, to feel it… to witness the strong façade so utterly crushed, the elder lion _crying… _it was such an aberration, those amber eyes shedding tears. He did it all, or attempted to, with a princely sense of dignity, nearly silent, but his strained, broken expression still betrayed him.

Neither of them had ever been hurt before—not this deeply, not this profoundly.

The older lion's sorrowful eyes graced the ground, and his paws moved almost without his knowing, stroking his sibling's budding raven mane with a soft, gentle move… his nose touched him there, on his forehead, attempting to console, though whether it worked was scarcely even relevant. Their mother was still dead. She wasn't moving, wasn't getting up. She only lay there, shattered and lifeless.

A perversion.

"_Muffy…" _He somehow mustered up the nerve to let out a soft, strained whisper… "… _how…?"_

The older lion sniffed visibly, a faint teardrop darkening his golden fur before it dripped into Taka's coarse, matted pelt.

"I don't know. Hyenas, I think. … Taka… it's… not your fault. Mother, she… loved you… Very much."

"Why would they… _why_…?" He couldn't even finish his thought. Not right away. The sobs choked him, stifling every modicum of speech under a visceral plea for help, a primeval expression of terror from his newfound burden. He couldn't speak clearly. He couldn't think clearly. He couldn't even breathe clearly, his diaphragm seizing up in a violent procession of spasms.

He saw his mother's paw cradled against the soft curve of her chest, now no longer breathing with life. The sharp edges of a cut traversing her supple figure, marring her limbs, and another—its twin—gaping effortlessly across her throat, painting the region under her chin with a vibrant red smile that was still bleeding quietly. It grinned forever at them, its maw ejecting spurt after spurt of its crimson spittle onto the unfeeling ground. Her blood showered the parched plants, and she was unfeeling all the while.

The vision was blurred by the salty film twinkling before his eyes, but it did not fully disappear. Even when he scrunched his eyes shut, it was still there, as though the image were burned into his eyelids. A still from a wondrous roll of film developing in the darkroom of his skull, that it may live there forever and in perpetuity.

He didn't want it. He didn't want any of this. But he didn't have any choice in the matter.

"This… This was my fault…" his voice was unusually cold and hard, flickering sobs dying down and fleeting shock giving way to a much deeper, long-lasting mix of sorrow, of guilt, of trauma… "This was all my fault. She wouldn't… wouldn't have died… if we were there."

Mufasa stroked his mane again, giant paw capable of a surprising amount of tenderness as he sat there, still and solemn while he embraced his younger brother. His regretful, reminiscent eyes said everything: it was true. It was all true. Already there was a small seed of bitterness, like the pit of a sour fruit, burrowing into the softest parts of their hearts… but they couldn't hold this against each other. Not if they had any hope of surviving.

For, inevitably, this very raw, very serious matter concerned the lives and fates of both of them, even more than they were aware. Because, as it turned out, there was another piece to this puzzle.

And that piece was their father.

Ahadi ripped him away. He was crying, he was screaming, he was kicking and struggling to fight, but there was no chance for him. Taka felt teeth in his nape, bunching up his scruff, for a brief moment, the larger lion hurtling him away with a fearsome scowl. The younger son hit the turf, hurt and afraid, but could not move. His father had seized him with a paw, pinned him to the ground with a simple move, and taken him by the throat, squeezing it hard in a raw expression that could be described only as shattered.

He was grieving. Taka and Mufasa could see that, in the blood-shot green eyes, the terrible grimace… but Ahadi had never taken to tragedy well. Where the brothers were hit with a sobering dose of sadness, the king had been stricken with a dangerous flare of raging anger. It lit his face up in a terrible expression when he yelled, his sharp fangs visible and clearly displayed in their rows while his entire visage morphed…

Both of them were terrified. Taka kicked out, but his small limbs were ineffectual weapons. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe, oh spirits, he couldn't breathe. It burned. He gasped and bit, his lips torn and abused. Trails of saliva were trickling down as his tongue lolled out, bloody and ugly. Mufasa was too frightened to move. And all the while the patriarch was yelling, was screaming in his agony.

_You fool, what have you done? Why is she dead?!_

His attempts at breathing quickened. Ineffectually, he dug his claws into his captor's arm. He struggled harder. Nothing. There was more rabid terror, more fright, more flashes, blurry and surreal, of that golden face, close by and deadly.

He croaked back. Please, please stop, he wanted to say, I didn't mean it. Please. We didn't mean it. I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean it. Please. Stop.

His voice failed him. All it could do was squeak in a vain attempt to mouth out the words…

_I'm so sorry… forgive me, Father… Forgive me… It hurts…_

"Dad, he didn't mean it!" Mufasa spoke up for him, finally finding his voice in the muddled sea of fright that had overtaken them all. "It was the hyenas. They killed her."

He whirled around on Mufasa in an instant, fur unkempt, nose scrunched, eyes burning like little green lanterns reflecting the instability in his skull. They showed, like mirrors, the distraught nature inside, so long held by a thread… and just now unleashed.

Was this lion their father? The caring and dutiful lion who had helped care for them from birth?

No. That lion was gone. His paws released his son, their victim, and trod upon the ground, trampled it with a wrought fury that had only the power to consume, no matter the consequences, no matter who it swallowed up in its wrath. If he saw Mufasa as his son, and not a cretin, he did not show it.

"And who _let them NEAR HER? _Answer me that! Was it _YOU, _Mufasa_?" _His voice hissed and crackled as he spat out the words. "Or was it _YOU_?"

Mufasa backed up diffidently, and the younger lion, shaken and dusty and afraid, was only just able to stagger to his paws, a fearful expression glimmering softly in his eyes. Neither of them wanted to take the blame, neither of them wanted to blame the other. They stood with whatever resolve they could find, frozen in terror though they were. Surely he wouldn't hurt his own sons.

… Surely the _old _Ahadi would never have hurt his sons. Not intentionally. But there was no telling what this newfound beast would do. They'd both awaken something deep, something dangerous, something that had been locked, for good reason, in a deep slumber. And now they would pay the deadly price.

"Why was she alone?" His voice was low, and fraught, and seething. "I demand to know… _now_…"

"The hunt went terribly wrong," Mufasa spoke up without missing a beat, seeming to draw strength from his protective instinct. He didn't want Taka to admit to the blame—there was no telling what the consequences would entail. "I went to get help. It was an accident, we swear, Father. We didn't know."

"You left her… in her condition, too…" He exposed his teeth in a disgusted expression, but the two brothers were caught completely by surprise. She'd never told them. She'd wanted to, but had never found the time.

But, all of a sudden, it made sense. Her slight weight gain, even after the drought. The reason she'd taken off so much time, despite being the lead huntress. All of it… it'd been in front of them all along, but they had never noticed.

Oh, no… _spirits_, no. Not this, too.

Mufasa's chin drooped as he looked at Taka, the both of them stricken with a sudden, painful understanding. Surely not, surely this was not the case…

Ahadi read their expressions of confusion, and for the briefest of moments, there was a sick glint of malice, as though he cherished the true cluelessness, the bewilderment that had overcome the both of them. His claws kneaded into the ground and his eyes were steely, forcing the brothers into silence.

"And where were _you_ during all of this?" He changed the subject back with an eerily focused air, his eyes boring holes into the youngest of his sons, his derailed mind swearing vengeance against whomever was responsible, whatever the cost, whatever the consequences…

The poor young lion swallowed visibly, his stare directed at the ground. He already felt guilty, a sentiment he would continue to struggle with for the rest of his life. Why, then, did his own father have to make the whole situation worse?

He decided to admit his culpability, a mistake he would swear not to repeat. Never, ever again…

"… I'm sorry, Father," he squeaked weakly, hoping that his honesty would disarm him. That the pleas of a mewling cub would repair his injured mind. "I got mad at Mufasa. I ran away… I didn't mean anything. I think he was looking for me, or for you… for someone. I'm sorry."

When he saw his father's face, his frankness died in its tracks, and he instantly regretted saying anything. If there had been any semblance of calmness, of rationality, it had dissipated into nothingness, more quickly than a summer breeze.

He was hit again, harder than before. The world spun, he saw lights, he felt the brutal shock of ten sharp claws carving into the flesh on his face as he recoiled, curling up as he impacted against the ground. A puff of dust clouded his vision, and he scrunched his eyes shut, losing any will to fight beneath the emotion quavering, virile and overpowering, in his chest.

It stung. Like _hell_. He whimpered, lip trembling as he fought to bite back his tears, tried to dam his pain behind a façade of fortitude, but it was far too late for that. He was little more than a wretched, vulnerable heap of fur and skin and bone.

Mufasa felt for him. But he could do nothing, stop nothing… their father was pinning his youngest child—youngest _living _child—in a threatening pose, his claws extended and gripping the flesh of his son as he unchained the last of his fury. Fury at the world, fury at its unfairness, fury at… _everything_…

His voice was harsh and grating and rapid, more a growl than a mode of speech.

"I swear, on my life and on my honor, that I will get to the bottom of this, and I will find… track down… and _PUNISH_ whosoever caused this to happen, regardless of circumstances, regardless of _ANYTHING_!" he seethed. And then, in a quiet tone that was no less foreboding: "… even if that means I have to get rid of you."

His eyes were crazed, and yet lucid in their burning distress. He genuinely wished revenge on Uru's death. Mufasa was stricken, disturbed… where had all this come from? Was his mother the only reason he'd had to live anymore?

He'd known they were close, but not so close that he'd threaten the rest of his family—_their family_—over an accident…

Taka said nothing.

"… _Somehow I knew this would happen_…" Ahadi drew his claws closer to his son's throat, and for the first time, there was a clear, true glimmer of sadness showing through his other emotions. It peeked its dark, writhing face through the curtain of rage that had overtaken him, and the king even winced, as though in regret.

But still he continued, with words so soft that they could barely be heard above the gentle rushes of a warm summer gale.

"… _You always caused trouble. Always were a burden. Did you think to get back at me, your poor old father?_ _Did you, for neglecting you thus?_"

The younger lion's paws fidgeting, betraying the fact that he was rightfully scared out of his wits, though his voice was even and level when he continued.

"Father," he continued, aghast at the accusations, "… no… no. You know… I know… I'd never do that."

"Oh, stop this!" He boomed, demanding and angry as his visage snapped back into a hard, fierce shape. His jaw was hard, his eyes focused. "Admit that you had something to do with what happened!"

"Father, stop, this is ridiculous." Mufasa interjected for the first time, though it didn't seem to help. Ahadi had found his scapegoat.

"_Mufasa_," he snapped dangerously, "get back… or I'll have to hurt you too…" the edges of a snarl touched his lips, disappearing just as quickly. "… And I don't want to do that, son…"

And that was when Taka realized the true gravity of the situation, the earnestness his father held in his convictions. He was deadly serious. Never had he _ever _witnessed him turn so abruptly towards his golden older child and _threaten _him…

The younger child had almost expected a harsh berating, as frightening as it was. But threatening their lives, bringing Mufasa into it… he knew, even then, that there was something deeply wrong with him.

There could be no going back. Not after this. Even if he found and caught the perpetrators, his relationship and outlook regarding his sons, the kingdom, the hyenas as a whole… it would all be forever transformed.

"Please, Father, this wasn't what she would have wanted. Please let him go."

Ahadi stood there, teeth gritted, as though he wanted to throttle him again. There was a spark there, a flicker of murderous intent. He was capable, Taka knew, of killing him there. But there was also diffidence in his eyes. Confliction. Sadness.

He hesitated, his grip softening, his eyes wavering between Uru's still, quiescent body, which was no longer breathing, and his two sons.

"Uru would have wanted to see justice served…"

"Then find the ones who killed her." Mufasa stood in front of him, calm and honest. "Please, Father, don't shatter our family more."

_Our _family, he had said. But it wasn't truly a family. Not anymore.

"Get out."

Taka met his father's eyes briefly, in understanding. He knew the words, he knew what he meant, he could read the connotation, the inflection, the emotion… but still he refused. Refused to believe what he was saying.

"Father," he pled softly, "please, let me stay. I didn't mean—"

"—OUT! GET OUT, TAKA! GO!"

He growled, a nasty grimace barely suppressed as he exhausted the last of his patience. With finality, he continued in a somber tone, and Taka didn't dare to question him again.

"… This is not your home, we are not your family… and I… I am not your father. Now _run_. _Run away_, and never return, child… before I change my mind. And spirits damn me if our paths shall ever cross again."

Deathly silence enraptured all of them. There was no noise, only the stench of rot and decay. Mufasa had done his best. Ahadi's paw released him gruffly. He looked to them. He nodded, in silent understanding. There was no thought, no contemplation—that would come later. For now it was only robotic, mechanical obedience, done for the sake of survival. He looked upon them all, and instead of relishing the last moment with the four of them together, or being joyous, there was only a pain. A burden of goodbyes left forever unsaid, of relationships forever broken. It was a shame, it truly was, but for that moment he only stood there. Silent. Helpless.

And then he ran. And ran. And ran.

He moved, quick and panicked and afraid, up the hill. He bolted long past the limits of his endurance. When his muscles screamed for rest, when his heart was pounding and protesting for a stop, when he felt his battered body could take no more, he only sprinted harder.

Minutes passed. The border drew closer. And all the while he was mistaking every crunch, every rustle of brush, every savannah sound, for a vengeful father seeking vengeance. A grief-stricken Ahadi deciding that he'd changed his mind, that his son was worthless after all, that he deserved to die in the end.

Perhaps he did. This was all his fault, anyways. If he hadn't left, none of this would have happened. Ahadi asserted it; even Mufasa hadn't denied that truth. So why, then, should it be any different?

It made sense, he told himself. Logically, it made sense, and that was all that mattered. He was lucky he didn't receive worse. But still his emotions were pricking and gnawing and biting at his core, as though devouring his very being. Several droplets of moisture trickled down the side of his face despite himself, making his breathing even more difficult. The ends of his whiskers drooped with the physical weight of his tears, a small incarnation of the mental and emotional burden he would always carry.

_Why did this have to happen? Why? Why me? Why this?_

_ Why?_

These were no merciful spirits indeed.

"TAKA!"

He nearly leapt out of his skin—and rightfully so. But it was only Mufasa, loping long, a fierce roar serving as the backdrop for his arrival. The younger lion only wanted to run harder, despite his sibling's presence.

"Taka, please. Please don't go."

There he was. On the verge of tears… again.

"Promise me. Promise me you won't leave. Don't go far. Please. I'm your brother. I love you. Please… stay with me."

He panted, breathless as he strained to keep up. Accordingly his voice was hoarse, strained… his words came out as a fluent, haphazard flow of words. A river of emotion that couldn't stop crashing, pounding, breaking through the barriers they'd always placed between them.

Mufasa was truly, deeply afraid. Afraid of losing his dear baby brother, right after he'd lost his mother. He wasn't sure if he could take that hit. And so he ran alongside him, begging and begging for something he knew could no longer be.

Taka finally slowed to a painful, grinding halt.

"I… I can't… have to leave, I'm… holding you back, Mufasa…"

His chest was taut and knotted, though whether it was from the pain of exerting himself so brutally, or from the events of the day, he himself would never know.

"No. Please," his diaphragm heaved in a labored breath, something unusual for a fit individual such as Mufasa, "Father'll change his mind, I know it, it'll just be a few days, and then… we can come back… be… be… happy."

"Don't lie to me…"

"I'll stay by you, I'll help you. When it's time… you'll come back. Please… promise me…"

He wanted to. He truly, desperately wanted to. To promise that he would stay with Mufasa, that they'd be together forever. But underneath it all, he was just so afraid… he needed comfort, but in the end, without his brother, he would have to provide for himself.

Taka could smile. He could fake contentment. Yet Mufasa… he didn't deserve being lied to. They knew—they both knew—that Ahadi would not rescind. Until his dying day, his youngest son would forever be estranged.

"Mufasa, I love you… come here…"

He did, and they embraced—tightly, briefly. It lasted a moment, neither of them wanting to let go. But they knew that what had come before was finished. Now began the remainder of their lives: a tight, rocky road that neither could traverse alone. Their fates, and their survival, were forever intertwined… for now, however, it was farewell.

Taka was headed for the Outlands. They both knew it.

"Take care of yourself." He whispered softly, giving his brother one last lick behind the ear before the younger of them absconded off into the late afternoon sun, into the depths of a sunset that would last for many lonely moons.

There would be a long night ahead.

* * *

><p>His first time alone. He sniffed, but no one heard it, huddled as he was under a layer of dust and debris, struggling to keep warm under the merciless, icy stare of the moon. The Outlands were barren. Whatever shelter there was—the dislodged stump of a tree, in this case—offered little protection. More and more the wind whipped, tearing into him. And more and more he shuddered, so hard at times that he could barely even see straight, barely even feel his numb body under him.<p>

He curled up, but his scruffy pelt was no use. No longer was he a prince. Now he was a vagabond, an indigent, cold and hungry and in pain.

There was no suppressing the visceral growl of a ravenous, neglected belly. It bit and tore at him, laughing at his suffering, pandering that it serve him, as it always did… regardless of whether he could or not. Now he was starving and helpless, but it continued to gnaw, continue to demand insistently.

_Feed me, _it whined. _Feed me, damn you, damn you all. _

It would be a wonder if he survived this, he thought numbly. There was no way. Just no way, no… hope…

_FEED ME! YOU ASS! _It burst into his thoughts, derailing them with a primeval ruthlessness. _You have the gall to kill your own family! So why can't you eat their damn flesh, too?_

He groaned, weakly, and whimpered. Flesh, it sounded… good… He could taste it, even, on the tip of his tongue. But still his mind and his body were united, continuing to flog him with a dreadful insistence. Weak, it repeated back to him, and worthless. Stupid. A waste. And more and more it parroted back the voices of his prior family. Of Mufasa. Of Ahadi. Of Uru. They were all together in his mind, having a party, feasting on the remnants of his security and sanity.

Why don't you join us? They asked softly, innocently. You stupid cur, you disaster, you blamable wretch?

It was the usual. He expected no different. But now there was something else… something deeper, darker… sinister.

He'd never felt it before. But far in the depths of his mind, there emerged a little voice. Seemingly innocuous at first, hiding any sign of perniciousness… but despite this he heard it, clearly. And he listened to it.

_You were wronged… _it started softly, almost tauntingly, _you were wronged, my child…_

The dark lion opened his eyes, seeing the clarity of the sky, of the stars, as they glinted in utter coldness. He couldn't help but feel small, insignificant… they really, truly didn't care about him. There was a sorrow connected with those thoughts, somehow, but again that voice, cunning and insidious, addressed them.

_Don't look to them. There is no god. There are no spirits. There is only chaos._

He could only describe it as a whisper, steadily growing in intensity. It grew stronger as he nourished it, as he nursed it with his attention.

_This world will rape and pillage and abuse you, unless… you do it first, to them…_

Never had he looked at the world in such a light. But this, he supposed, was his new life. It was just a glimpse of how life on the African plain truly was, all the time. Who was he to bawl and complain? It was only right that he sober up, that he endure it and survive… there was nothing else he could do, lest he die, forgotten and in vain…

_Vengeance, Taka, is what you want. _

Something about it enthralled him, though he couldn't explain why. There was a glint of sick happiness, the first positive emotion he'd felt since before the disaster had happened… and then a smile so sickly that it didn't seem to be his, as his canines glimmered in the darkness.

_Go forth, child, and repay the debt. Bring the world to its knees, my prince… as it has done to you. _

He was still cold, and hungry, and forlorn. But there was a promise made inwardly, in that moment, without him knowing. A new reason to live. And now, despite everything, he could sleep peacefully, for the first time in forever…

* * *

><p><em>As usual, I am vaguely wondering about the quality of this chapter. I wrote all of it, save for the first scene, todayTuesday-plus-thirty-minutes-of-Wednesday-though-in-my-book-it's-still-Tuesday-since-I-haven't-gone-to-sleep-yet._

_Chapter summary: Ulaghai kills Uru, hyenas are blamed, Taka gets screwed over and hears voices in his head. _

_Anyways, hoping this isn't too... disturbing, or dark, for anyone. I normally don't worry that much about you guys, since I know you can take *nearly* anything, but in all honesty I almost cried a bit writing a segment of this, and I don't recall that ever happening before. So I hope you guys are holding up there. I'm not _totally _heartless, I swear..._

_Oh, and OC names for filler characters._

_Kufuata (Ulaghai's accomplice) - compliance_

_Jiraha (Screwed-over Hyena Brother #1) - wounds_

_Kafara (Screwed-over Hyena Brother #2) - the sacrifice _

_So that pretty much wraps up everything. No more flashbacks for a few chapters, I think - in all honesty, this is probably the most important one in the story, alongside the one where Taka gets his scar... since that _still_ hasn't happened yet at this point. ;) But this is where everything really starts to change._

_And before you ask, no, this isn't where Taka gets the idea that he wants to kill Mufasa. It's just the beginning of his downfall and his resolve to survive his little unintended 'stay' in the Outlands. So we'll have to see where he goes from there._

_As for now, it's 1:20 AM and I have school tomorrow! HAPPY HAPPY JOY FUN TIME. YES. SO PUMPED NOT REALLY BUT KINDA JUST BECAUSE I GET TO PLAY LACROSSE AGAIN. But aside from that pretty monotonous. _

__See you all on Sunday, hopefully!__

_Twin out :)_


	47. He Loves Me?

_**A/N:**_

_So, yeah, kay, I came back. ^^ And it's only 12:30. Looks like I may get to sleep early tonight. Sorry for the wait._

_Anyways, in addition to this, I was working on a one-shot. Which you all should check out, since it has been sadly neglected up until now, and I think you Scar fans out there would enjoy it. Just a quicky read, I promise. :)_

_Uhhhh, what else to say... err... yeah, my schedule has drastically changed since last month. So expect more writing. This year is pretty much over for me, between AP tests finishing and lacrosse being over and my birthday coming and going and the parades I marched in and blah blah blah. It's pretty nice being able to actually do nothing. I may not be as 'high' as last month, but considering that this whole year has been a progressive improvement from when I was a sophomore, I can't complain. :3_

_Anyways, reviews._

**_IronicSnap:_**_ SNAPPY, YOU CONNIVING LITTLE-! -_- I'm just kidding. xD Forgetting to log in happens to the best of us. Still, you fooled me this time. Usually I can tell when it's you just from the typing. lol Umm... Ulaghai... yeah... he is totally a threat... er... oh crap, I don't want to ruin this for you, but I'm preeeeetty sure I mentioned that Zamani killed him somewhere in there. Dx Sorry for ruining your dreams, but I don't want to inflate you with false hopes. He can't have an awesome battle with Scar if he's dead. ;( And I figured you'd like the quotes! lol (Although this story is closer to 180k words of text, not 215k... My ANs are way too long. I'll have to be more careful next time x.x)_

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Yeah, Ahadi has a special way of doing that... I don't think the hyena pack will be very friendly with him in the future since they were wrongly exiled. :/ They did get screwed, indeed. To be honest, though, I was originally planning for Mufasa to be a lot madder at Taka and blame him for what happened also... but it just didn't seem right yet, and I think I liked the way it turned out a lot better. More touching. As far as what exactly is happening though... eh... in my eyes, it's kind of meant to be exposition/a flashback for the audience to get some context as to what happened, but theoretically yes, Scar is dreaming all this again. He's sleeping in the baobab tree right now. :3 Hehe. And thank you, by the way. Everything was indeed going well, despite how busy I was. I had a lot of fun. :] But I'm ready to relax and write now, thank you very much. xx_

**_mom:_**_ Hey, mom. Thanks. ^^ Indeed, Ahadi doesn't set a really good example as a parent here, but he just lost his mate and I guess she was the one thing keeping him sane. Taka doesn't have the best road ahead, however. Of course, we all know how he inevitably turned out, so that's probably not a surprise though. :/_

**_pokeking95:_**_ No problem, dude. I relate. ^^ And don't sweat the review. It happens sometimes, and tbh, it made me that much more determined to make the chapter better, so it's all good. :s Anyways, yes, I know you've told me about you desensitization, so I'm not surprised. At least I avoided making it tacky. -_- Yeesh. And I suppose madness would be more of a Scar thing, not a Taka thing, but then, since it doesn't make sense for him to just completely change from one persona to the other overnight, I'm guessing it's something that would come with time. Given that he's just lost his entire family pretty much, I didn't really see why it shouldn't be there, even if we only saw a snippet. lol But anyways, thanks for the review. And of course I won't hold the previous one against you. You are always free to review here as you like. ^^_

_**Night-Waker: **XD - this is all I have to say to that. lol And yes, this is the great unraveling of... I guess one of the first sequences that makes Scar who he is. ^^ And yeah, it would have been a lot better if Ahadi hadn't done that, but again, if it had gone differently, Scar as we know him would be a _lot _different. He would probably still be close with Mufasa and wouldn't have so many emotional/psychological problems. Then there wouldn't be a story. ;p ... And oh, I didn't know that. lol But yes, definitely, Pinkie Pie would love help with her next greatest creation... what should it be? A stuffed version of the offender, lovingly sewn back together? A collection of bloody cutie marks cut out and kept? Or just more cupcakes? xD (Maybe she won't have to invite Rainbow Dash over now...)_

**_BlackLouie:_**_ Thanks, dude! B) Hope you keep reading!_

**_DancingKitKat: _**_Hehe, thanks, glad you liked it. ^o^ And yeah, Scar is definitely on the road to no return... I agree with you about writing, though. I know people who take it so seriously and don't get any enjoyment out of it, which is a shame. :/ I honestly feel bad for them. Then they wonder why they can't write more than a couple pages, or get writer's block, or can't finish a story. And yes, that is a good point... looking at your profile, it seems you are the younger out of the two of us. :P That's okay, though, I relate. I was about your age when I started on here. Believe me, that time flies if you let it. ;]_

**_Guest:_**_ Oh, wow... o_o Sorry about that. Glad to hear it, though! _

**_fanofScar:_**_ Thanks for the compliment! (And for choosing an awesome username, lulz :P). But anyways... yeah. Updates. They generally come every 1-4 weeks, depending on how difficult it is to write and how much time I have. Sometimes it's more or less, though. ^^_

**_SonOfSol:_**_ Two hours? xP I swear to God, you guys breeze through this thing so easily... I would not be able to read this much in two hours. :P But thank you very much, it means a lot to me to hear people say that. I hope you continue to enjoy it. :]_

__Anyways, sorry about the month wait. Looks like week updates might not always be my thing. Especially when it's dialogue-heavy chapters like this one. Beware mates, Scar be angsty up yonder! ;)__

* * *

><p>He woke up from the middle of his stupor in the middle of a sunrise. The tepid air was warming steadily, and as he looked out from between his digits, which had somehow come to cover his scrunched face, he could vaguely see many soft hues of yellow as they reached and tinged the horizon with varicolored stains. The clouds were painted bloody and rubicund, and the sky above them was still darkened with navy tones—thus the reason why he wanted to curl up and return to sleep.<p>

The lion groaned softly, straightening up more and becoming vaguely aware of the fact that his paw was smattered with blood. It glimmered, very faintly, from the surface of his fur, though at this hour there was very little distinguishing the dark brown of his pelt from the dark crimson of his blood. His left eye, though surrounded by flesh that was somewhat inflamed, struggled open, its covering caked with thick, bloody clots.

Scar caught Zira's head turn softly towards him, apparently aware of his awakening. She was still vigilant, despite the fact that her watching had taken something of a toll on her. The lioness' eyes were droopy, a fact hidden, for now, by her silhouetted form. The night was coming to an end.

"Were you okay, Scar?"

He blinked, still lethargic as he tried to recuperate his thoughts.

"What… what do you mean?"

"I dunno… you were kinda talking to yourself… are you okay?"

A sharp grimace covered his face, solemn and troubled under his bloody visage. He grunted. "Mmmmft… Fine. I'm fine."

He sat up from his slump and attempted to get to his feet, preferring not to dwell on the incident still fresh on his mind.

"Bad dream?"

The lion looked surprised for a moment, and his skin prickled. He didn't like being pressed so, and was inches away from snapping before he remembered who he was talking to. Yes, it was Zira… she didn't mean any harm by asking.

"Depends on your definition of 'bad'. Most of mine are unpleasant." Scar smirked, wishing the conversation to end there. With a somewhat uncoordinated move, made relatively torpid by his tired state, he turned around and leapt as nimbly as he could off the limb, moving into the base of the baobab where its many sprawling branches converged into one center…

Zira turned, realizing that her duty was over. She had no real reason to stay up on her perch anymore, so she dismounted it gracefully and followed him with a pleasantly slow step.

"I understand, dear." She cleared her throat softly, and suddenly he remembered her background, her… abuse… as a cub. The entire conversation they'd had the night before. Her revelation about why she'd followed him, despite everything. No wonder, then, that she shared his pain.

Something about it still bothered him, however, so he was secretly relieved when she attempted to change the subject.

"… Hmmm… that's new. Those things always disturbed me, though, you know…"

Slowly and wearily, he followed her taut gaze, which had settled on the figures sketched haphazardly, sprawling and loose, across the branches. The shaman had made them, seemingly in a fit of madness.

There was always something vaguely spiritual about them. Stains of dyes covered the wooded surface of the baobab, speaking of events that had once been, of terrible tragedies and wondrous miracles. It was all somewhat… unsettling. Especially now. Most of the old figures of him and Mufasa and their parents had been coated in red and black paint, smudged in most places and rendering the drawings below an undecipherable mess.

She continued.

"It wasn't like that last time I was here. Things really change, I guess."

The lion's eyes glinted harshly over one of the few still visible—a crude portrayal of Mufasa and Scar, as well as a creeping black figure beside them. There was a haunting glean in its eyes, and the dark lion recognized the scene very well, illustrated as he was with trails of blood across his face and body.

"Not as much as you would think…" he trailed off, rubbing his eye with a paw and thus removing several scratchy clumps of blood. He turned away from the branches, noting the empty interior of the baobab. There were no animals waiting outside its generally-busy form, save for the impala still wandering below, there was no shaman leaping through the branches, there was no golden lion walking through the Pridelands for his dawn patrol… it was all emptiness. "… What are we to do now, hmm?"

Zira looked around diffidently, gnawing on her lip.

"The hyenas could still be around. We can't risk it, not with your injuries… we could wait until the shaman and his bird get back, and then have Mufasa come to us."

"Yes, of course, and wait for that _oaf_ to make up his _damn _mind on when or where or if he should? That'll end _perfectly_."

Zira's ear twitched and she visibly flinched, the lioness attempting to ignore his incisive tone despite the fact that his defensiveness still hurt her somewhat.

"Listen…" she began calmly, maintaining her composure as she ducked her head softly. "There's not much we can do in this situation. Do you have any better ideas?"

His lips puckered and he glanced away, sobering up. Finally, after a long moment, he shook his head, the faintest twinge of sheepishness overtaking his features for a split instant. In a way, she was right—he just didn't want to admit it. He was tired, and angry, and in pain…

"Are you sure you're alright? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine."

"I don't believe you," she retorted just as quickly. "Lie down."

"I'm _fine_," he repeated stubbornly, eyes narrowing as he stared at her for several moments… and met two red eyes just as obstinate and steadfast as his own. He growled, and again shook his head from side to side, swaying as he paced softly around. Then, finally, with no concealed amount of frustration, he flopped down carelessly onto his side and relented, realizing that the only one he was fooling was himself, and that wasn't doing him any good. "… Although, on second thought… maybe I'm a little under the weather now…"

"I thought so," she smirked, her tail lashing as the glint in her crimson eyes softened and died under her heavy-lidded stare. "Will you let me do this now? Without pushing me away?"

"Depends on what you… have in mind…" he replied uneasily, uncertain of what she was referring to. But her intentions were clear in a moment's time.

"Hold still," she ordered, though he couldn't help but wince as she ripped the torn fragments of a bandage from his shoulder. Most of the leaves the now-absent shaman had used to cover his wounds were loose or removed altogether, leaving the tender flesh exposed.

Luckily, his injuries were already quite far in the process of healing, with only the freshest of them still bleeding. The others were mostly clotted and forming scars already. Thus she removed the matted foliage from his back and sides where it still remained, clumped and stuck to his body through the sweat and blood it'd been steeped in for several days.

He continued to tense up and growled instinctively, though the sound died in his throat rather quickly. Admittedly, he felt more comfortable without the sticky clumps of leaves awkwardly clinging all over his pelt, so he allowed her to continue as he shifted his weight into a comfortable position.

Zira's tongue unfurled like a writhing, coiled serpent cast in shadow. He tensed. Even now, he wasn't sure if he was alright with this. In fact, physical contact from anyone else, even of this nature—_especially _of this nature—felt terse and awkward. A shudder crept through his body as she planted her paw delicately on his shoulder in reassurance, and if there was a word in protest, his sudden lack of breath stifled it.

"I won't hurt you. Relax." She caught a flicker in his eyes despite her words, and she visibly sighed. Saying that her companion was mistrusting would be an understatement. The lioness moved her deft paw gently across his back, smoothing his pelt where it had bristled stiffly in alarm… "Relax. This won't hurt."

There was a soft brushing of saliva against his flank, as that was the part of him that was closest, and he immediately reacted by curling up into a defensive pose, his claws visible. She withdrew her head in response and waited, patiently, until she saw his taut muscles loosen…

She only wished she could convince him to let her help. As it was, she would have to be very careful about how she continued.

"Don't move, Scar."

The lioness moved over to his shoulder and began there, keeping her eyes on him. His own gaze was alert, never wavering, never softening. He didn't protest openly, but he was still stiff, his limbs tense and his claws withdrawn forebodingly.

"_Shhhhh,_" she hushed him between licks, in a voice as soothing as the rivulets of spittle staunching and quelling the bloody burn of many crusted wounds… There were several clusters criss-crossing him in various places, and her work was calm and slow as the sun continued to rise, the sky gradually lightening to reveal the oddball pair high in the baobab—the crumpled, ragged figure of the lion, and the tender caresses of the lioness who had tried to care for him.

She continued forwards, finding fresh scrapes on his chest alongside the many silvery-pink scars that hid deceptively under his raven mane like fish beneath a stream of hair. There was no sudden outburst from him upon her seeing them this time, and she did not ask about them, merely enjoying the silent moment as he reluctantly allowed her to move upwards.

It was only then that she finally noticed the hard glint in his eye quaver in uncertainty, his eyelids drooping and reflecting his truly tired nature. All of this… abuse… it had gone on for so long… for too long. He pined for solitude, for rest, in the midst of the exhaustion that seeped down to the morrow of his bones. There was no use in fighting this. The haggard lion settled down on an elbow, eventually turning down onto his side as his eyelids drooped softly and the growls in his throat subsided into a faint rumble…

Zira looked up, catching him with her red eyes. Purring? Really? She smirked to herself for a brief moment, secretly both amused and _be_mused at the same time. The poor thing, those marks must have hurt when he'd been given them…

She nudged him with a paw, inciting him to stretch and move slowly onto his back. This time his head craned forward and he watched her curiously, aware of his vulnerable position alongside her. After a moment he moved his paws out of the way, still studying her intently. He was stiff again, though with another quick, fluid motion, she bade him to relax.

"_This won't hurt_," she whispered quickly, moving over to the gash that furrowed a trail, still somewhat torn and ugly, across his stomach. The soft, creamy fur on his underbelly was stained a ruddy pinkish hue, made coarse and matted through the frequent application of blood and dirt to the smooth hairs. She slicked them back gently, cleaning them and clumping them into small, wet tufts across his body. His cut skin glimmered with the moist saliva that pooled, smoothly and fluidly, between the lips of the tender wound gaping across his flesh. He stopped purring, tilting his head at her as she continued along the course of the incision, carefully cleaning up his exposed belly. It was hard for him to suppress the urge to curl back up and force her to leave, for he didn't necessarily like the feeling of helplessness, of compliance. For an individual so used to fending for himself, and providing for himself, and taking care of himself on his own, the idea of anyone else being there, so closely to him, was oddly frightening, enough so to prompt a prickle of sweat to form on the back of his neck.

His breath caught instinctively as her nose nudged his sensitive flank again, telling him to roll back over. He did so readily, straightening up as she moved to his face and licked away the last crusts of blood from around his eye… He squinted as she dabbed at the blood under it with a tongue, again causing the fur to stick up in darkened, messy clumps as she gave him a thorough brushing. It reminded him, very vaguely, but with a pang of nostalgia nonetheless, of the baths his mother used to give him as a cub. He never would have thought that he would miss them, but then, he often found himself missing nearly everything about her. The way she walked with him, the way she talked with him… she'd always tried her utmost to give what time she had to him and Mufasa.

At least until she had no time left.

"There," Zira gave him one last lick on the cheek before taking a step back and studying her handiwork with a sense of finality, her brow cocked and her head tilted. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He paused and looked away from her, his cold gaze meeting the ground, and chose not to speak for several moments, eliciting a slight frown from the younger lioness.

Alas, there was something vaguely pleasurable about it, and that much he could not deny. But it was one of many pleasures that he could not be allowed to indulge in. Doing so could only end disastrously, after all…

"I will admit, I am still questioning the purpose of it," his eyes narrowed perceptively, "… you are aware I could have taken care of it myself, yes?"

"Well, of course, but…"

"But _what_? What are you looking for? What do you want back from me?" He took a more aggressive posture, still sitting, though his ears were flattened back as though in anger. In truth, however, he was acting merely from the looming, omnipresent sensation he always had of being threatened…

"I didn't want anything back," she replied evenly, keeping her demeanor in check. "I just thought that maybe it'd been a while since anybody did anything like that for you…"

He looked away again, somehow finding it hard to maintain eye contact with her.

"I was right, wasn't I?"

"Yes, but…" he bit his lip, "… yes. Fine." The lion sighed in exasperation, not inclined to appreciate the way she confounded him at every turn. And then, in a voice calmed by reason:

"I do not wish to lose my composure with you—that would not be sporting, given the goodwill you've harbored towards me thus far… but you leave me no choice sometimes."

"Whatever you say," she snorted, though her eyes glimmered in slight amusement. "I didn't know being nice was a crime."

His lips pursed.

"I think this goes a bit beyond being nice, Zira."

"If you would rather me be an ass, I'm perfectly capable of that, you know," she retorted, equally quickly.

"Point taken, but…" he stopped for a moment, considering his words, yet found them to be difficult in coming. All of his options were equally distasteful. The lion sighed and turned away. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Do you want me to keep doing this or not?"

"I don't… I…" his throat tightened, lips visibly dry, as his words trailed off incoherently. Only his eyes, glinting vaguely with a hint of fear set firmly in his deep visage, gave away the rest.

_I don't know… I don't know how to handle this…_

The lioness understood and shook herself inwardly. Figured that he would act aloof like this. She should have realized that this would happen.

"Listen, I know it's strange to you, but being sensitive isn't a weakness, Scar. Do you understand that?" She brushed up against him, pushing her head into the crook under his chin with no concealed amount of affection and closing her eyes softly. It was all she could do to suppress her frustration with him. "You don't have to hide from me."

She could feel his muscles stiffen awkwardly as he remained sitting there, limbs sprawled as he reluctantly received her nuzzles. All the while his muzzle was contorted with a wrought expression, somewhat disapproving. It sounded so… familiar… to him.

"I… can't…" he pulled away suddenly, ignoring her disappointed expression. "I apologize. I…" the words were faint, muted, "… I can't do this anymore."

Not when everything she did reminded him of an ennobled Mufasa coming back after some amount of time nobody could estimate, for reasons none could fathom, to tell him that he still loved him, that he wanted to be there for him, that he wanted to… help him…

Thinking of the whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth. And here she was, acting just chipper as she lent a helping paw, unaware that her touch was tainted with the memories of a friend he lost long ago.

After all, he couldn't even stay attached to his own sibling—not forever. Why would this unrelated lioness, whom he'd met only weeks prior, be an exception? He destroyed everything he came into contact with, and she wouldn't be any different. He'd hurt her, too…

"You shouldn't be doing this, Zira."

"Why not?" She asked boldly, again trying to sidle up to him and reestablish their eye contact. "I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're a young lioness; you've got your whole life ahead of you, almost. Don't waste it on me."

"Who said it's a waste, dear?" The edges of a smile touched her lips, her face pleasantly amiable despite its sharp edges and chiseled features. He scowled softly, but didn't meet her gaze.

"Just proof…" he mumbled incoherently, ignoring her briefly-puzzled gaze as his nose twitched in stark irritation. "Just proof that you don't really know anything about me." He turned around, claws scraping the bark, tap-tapping against the old surface as he gazed, with some air of taut, agitated reminiscence, on the ragged, smudged paintings—painful reminders of a past he would rather leave forgotten. "_Foolish lionesses…" _he whispered, the point of a claw carving into the surface softly alongside many disturbing images. "Silly…"

She followed alongside him, the edge of her flank inadvertently brushing against his as she regretfully studied the now-hidden series of pictures and wondered, somewhat forlornly, what sorts of mysteries they held deep in their crazed lines, their blurred colors…

"What are you saying to me?" Her ears flattened quizzically.

"If you knew what I've done," he quipped, "you would have left me like anyone else." She felt his paw plant itself firmly on her tail. "Nothing personal, but soon, I am sure, you shall join the bandwagon… hmmm?"

She withdrew, flicking her tail into a curled shape and looking somewhat offended.

"Why would I leave you because of what has already passed?" Her brows furrowed. "I come to you as I am, and I expect you to do the same…"

Several moments passed in still silence, and she noticed his lips twist solemnly in thought. A signal he was thinking. After several more moments, in a tone seemingly without precedence, he continued haphazardly.

"You know that I killed my own nephew…?"

Her ears pricked alongside her drooping face, as he thought it would. Alas, he wasn't sure quite why he'd said that, of all things. It was… random.

In his mind, it wasn't necessarily what he thought about the most often, nor was it the darkest or most frightening event that had come to pass in his life. Still he was thinking, rather bitterly, of his mother's death, the scene that constantly wound up inside his nightmares. No, Simba was not the worst wrong, it was merely a side effect, a symptom of what had come to pass. A consequence from when the tension between him and his brother had come to a sort of frightening, violent edge. Now that he thought about it, though… that day had turned out significantly unlike how he had hoped, or expected…

"Scar, I knew about that, and that's…" she was out of words to say, though he could see the shadow of the thought on her face… terrible, she meant to say. Terrible… "… but… you know, I'm…" her ears drooped in defeat. "I'm sure that's not the _whole _story…"

"_It doesn't change that I still killed my own gods-damned nephew!_" He yelled, a lot louder than he intended—again for no apparent reason. And then, with even more spite and apparent loathing in his voice:

"… _Stupid cub. _Always getting in the way… couldn't keep his _DAMNED _nose out of anything! Just as I would expected for Mufasa's _cursed _spawn!"

_Smack!_

She jerked backwards in surprise as a shard of bark came showering out at her, the lion having swiped at the tree faster than she could have expected, at a small image she hadn't even noticed… a diminutive representation of Simba, scrawled onto the tree in apparent love and care before being smeared, almost unrecognizably, into a fuzzed, blurry shape. Now three angered claw marks cut through its surface, giving the deceased cub a distinctly gruesome, carved-up appearance.

"Scar… I think you need to calm down…"

"_Don't tell me to calm down!_" he snapped, before continuing in an almost crazed rave to no one in particular, pacing back and forth across the tree, tail lashing, pelt bristling in wild clumps. "Damned cub… why did he have to be the one to die, curses on him…"

Zira took a step backwards, watching with wide, fearful eyes as the lion lathered himself into a visible rage, with a fraught spark in his eye that brought his visage close to that of a madman. Was he… nearing the brink of _insanity_…?

"Scar, dear, please get a hold of yourself…"

"Simba is dead!" He continued on, ignoring her as his claws left visible score-marks across the stone. "Sure, yes, he was annoying, stupid little pest… but I never meant for him to _die_… those _pathetic_ wildebeest… cursed _fools_…!"

She said nothing. Alas, there was nothing she could really do for him—she realized that. Better to just let him calm down on his own. It didn't seem like any of her business, after all.

After several moments he finally stopped, visibly bothered through his hard, icy gaze, though there was the slightest note of regret in his voice and features as he finally set his haunches down in place, a puzzled frown clearly cutting across the length of his muzzle as he considered one of the worst mishaps that had ever come to pass in his life.

For he realized now, at least, that Simba was never the intended victim. The cub had merely been caught in the crosshairs, while, at the end of the day, his true target had escaped nearly unscathed. Yet maybe, just maybe, it merely came down to poor planning on his part... really, he should never have involved Simba in the first place.

No. Perhaps he shouldn't have. But then… did that truly mean that all of this had been his fault to begin with…?

Surely not. Mufasa, the brute… he should have just died in the stampede. Using Simba was the only way he could think of to draw him in, as cruel as it was, but alas, everything would have been so much better had the father died; he would have dealt with the cub on his own, perhaps even taken him in and accepted him as his heir, provided he was not a further problem… and, furthermore, the hyenas would have been satiated. He would have lifted their exile and they would have left him alone. The lionesses, too, would no longer feel the need to look upon him with scorn—they would never know the truth, after all.

Oh, if only… everything would have been so much _better_…

He sighed, defeated, but perked in surprise upon feeling a face resiliently brush against his neck. He'd momentarily forgotten about Zira.

It didn't change, however, that now she knew. He was guilty about Simba. Not that he'd ever wanted to admit it, but the whole way the stampede worked out was something he doubted would ever leave him.

"I'm not a good lion, Zira," he concluded harshly. "I don't deserve your love; you shouldn't be giving it to me."

"Stop it," she retorted calmly, looking deeply concerned. "Stop _telling yourself_ that…" The lioness stalked under him and lifted up her head in order to meet her gaze, hoping to appeal to his reason. "Listen, Scar, I don't _care_ what anyone else thinks, because _I've _loved you. Since the moment I first saw you. Now I'm not the best lion either, but… I still put _my _emotions on the line here, and sacrificed _my _time… doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"What _should_ it mean to me?" He asked coldly, rhetorically… "All I see from it is that a foolish lioness chose to love me, through no solicitation of my own. What does _that_ prove?"

She visibly frowned in defeat. So she meant nothing to him after all…?

"_You _listen to _me, _Zira," he continued, catching the visible pain that had captured her stolid gaze, "emotions serve only to hurt. Do not be surprised if yours follow in turn."

He turned away, though the dark lion still caught her huffing irritably under her normally calm breath. She was losing, quite quickly, her patience with his seemingly dispassionate indifference. Though perhaps that was for the better of all involved. If she continued this foolish charade, she would be hurt one way or the other, whether he did it to her, or whether she did it to herself.

His emotions had long since been burned and cauterized like the festering infection they were. So, that led him to ask, what in hell was she still doing here?

"Oh, so is that all I mean to you? Just a little bundle of frivolous emotions?" She burst out, the dark lion snapping out of his reverie as he met her suddenly-offended gaze. "Yeah, I guess if I get hurt it's _my _fault, is that it? You can do whatever you damn well please! Can't you?"

"Zira, you misunderstand me," he replied, his voice low.

"No, I think I understand pretty well! You can act however you want because you just don't give a damn! Well, guess what? I can't speak for anyone else, but _I _care about you. And you can't just keep pushing everyone away like this!"

"_Who are you_, Mufasa?" His hackles bristled defensively, teeth snapping together inches from her steely visage. "You misunderstand me!"

"Then why do you act like this?"

"Because I destroy everything, Zira!"

"That's not true!"

"_Look at Mufasa! _Look at his _pandering _pride! You look at all those paranoid, prattling little gossips and you tell me that those damned whelps didn't fall to madness the moment I deigned to better my lot in life!" He seethed with anger, thinking pitilessly of their endless, snide comments, their passive persecution, their careless cruelty. And, of course, how they worshipped their dear Mufasa.

"You tell me," he continued, his tone somewhat calmer even though it still wavered with fierce, combative emotion, "that I am not the_ stain_ amongst them."

Zira was silent for several moments, as he was. Again, though, she could tell something was on his mind as he met her gaze, his eyes now much softer. And then suddenly, with a rueful expression, in an uneasy voice so forlorn that the lioness would never have expected it to come from him: "Zira, I am not even '_good_' enough for _Mufasa_ to love me. Do you know that?" He gave a chortle, though there was no hint of amusement in his dark timbre. "He's so _pitiably _naïve he would love a crocodile… but not me, his own brother... not anymore."

She quieted, her face softly melting in what felt like sympathy as she considered all that he had said to her. Her anger was already gone, and again she pitied him, even if she didn't say it. For no matter what, she just could not hate this lion, despite his past. It was a part of him now, and it may have been too late to right the wrongs… but regardless of this fact, she wished it didn't have to be that way.

More than anything else, she wanted to move on from her past life… and she desperately hoped that he could do the same.

"What happened to you? The both of you? You couldn't have always been this cold…"

"You're right; I wasn't," he snapped back, his weak tone all but snuffed out in favor of his usual moodiness.

"Then what happened? What… what did Mufasa do to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He took scarcely a moment to answer, in a brusque and rough voice that belied an uncharacteristic lack of forethought. She flinched.

"But why? You know, you don't have to hide it any—"

"_I said I don't want to talk about it_." The lion didn't appear angry, though there was a peevish glint in his now-fiery eyes that dared her to ask him again.

"But Scar," she continued, against all common sense… "You know all there is to know about me. I told you _my_ secrets…"

"And that is none of my doing. Do not expect me to reciprocate."

"Scar, please. I just want to understand."

Her ears flattened, still hurt by his harsh words, for she could tell that he meant them—there was a ruthless sort of bluntness, a cruel sincerity etched into everything he said now. This was not the perceptive, wheedling Scar, an individual always scarcely-contained within a thin veneer of courtesy. The lion who possessed, in a rather frightening combination, the dual dichotomy of a quick temper and careful self-control. This was something deeper, a part of his psyche that spat fire like a coarse, wounded animal.

She frowned. There was nothing she could do in this regard. Arguing was futile. But still she pled with him, trying to show him reason and rationality through the light of her own experience.

"Scar, just… fine. Alright. Don't tell me." Zira tried to still her tongue from saying anything more on that note, though her timbre was still vaguely spiteful. "Just listen to me. I have to live away from my family. It was the only choice I had. But I'm asking you... is what he did truly so unforgivable?"

"Zira, stay out of i—"

"_No_, Scar, you need to hear this. Is getting rid of Mufasa really going to solve anything? Is there _no other _way?"

"Even if there was another way, Zira, it's too late for that." He lay on his side, paws crossed, and looked out at the horizon irritably, his harsh eyes narrowing as he stared at the reddening morning sky. "There is no going back. Not now."

Her lips pressed themselves into a thin line, miffed slightly at his seeming indifference.

"So that's just it, then… does that mean you still want to kill him, Scar?"

The lion refused to acknowledge her for several moments, his shadowed countenance shading his eyes as he rested his head upon his overlapping limbs, tail flicking in solemn, pensive thought. Of course, he tried not to admit it, even to himself. But there was something in what she said that bothered him.

His brows scrunched willfully, clearly matching his sharp and disdainful grimace.

Mufasa. Yes. If he wasn't always the issue at hand.

The golden lion always smiled with that same convincing sincerity. Indeed, convincing… or was it conniving? He saw it always as conniving. At least, ever since that day... For beneath his grinning maw lay a figure seemingly unconvinced of his own imperfection, his own brutish strength, his own ability to hurt others…

Perhaps it wasn't his fault. No one was perfect—the brothers, least of all. Maybe Scar was not the one to be criticizing him, as depraved as he himself realized he could be… But, then, how could he just _ignore _the elephant in the room? How could he take it to lie to himself, day after day after _long_, cursed day? Mufasa did. He always did. But Scar had, through many hard moons, been plagued with an ineffable skepticism. He couldn't just pretend everything was fine, as Mufasa did.

Yes, his older brother had granted him life, had saved him several times. Yet he could not help but remember, in spite of all this, that he who giveth was also he who could easily taketh away... It was infinitely better, then, not to be indebted to someone as unpredictable as Mufasa, in light of the mistakes made over the years. Vulnerability would only ensure exploitation.

He'd held him at arm's length in light of that.

But how long, then, had he truly wished death upon his brother? In earnest, at least? It hadn't been long. For far too many moons he had been a slave to decency, complacency, naïveté… but no. That wasn't all. There was more to it than that. As he was aware, a big difference lay between the mere possession of a disgruntled feeling, and the impetus to act drastically upon it.

The voice. It was there. It tickled his ear, like a serpent, tongue flicking, eyes glimmering, in the milieu of a night that flashed, vividly and ever-presently, in his mind. He roiled on the ground, caught in emotion, struggling to breathe the cool night air that continued to caress his face lavishly with gusts of wind.

_That night. That _cursed _night_…

He remembered it. The surreal images came back, like a haunting dream gone wrong. A nightmare that always played in the back of his mind, more lucidly than he would have liked.

_Hehe… hehe… hehehehe! Hahaha! HAHAHAHA!_

_No, don't, I beg of you…_

_It's ya brother's turn. _

_But you killed Ahadi!_

_ HE LEFT YOU TO DIE, TAKA._

_ Of course, I deserve this…_

_ No, you deserve better. They all deserve better._

Sarabi…

"Scar? Are you okay?" Zira moved cautiously to his taut, unmoving figure, before planting a digit delicately on his shoulder. He didn't respond. "… Scar…?"

"_What, Zira?_" He snapped out of his unmoving, unblinking stare, only to focus in on her with two increasingly-hostile eyes. "_What is it you want to know_?"

"Spirits, calm down!" She chided him. "You just looked… uneasy for a second."

"_I did, did I_?" He rose to his feet, something in his eyes looking… rabid for a moment. There was a fraught, stray spark visible in his greenish, verdure glint of his gaze, before he turned away and his lathered visage disappeared, a splendid view of his bristled hackles replacing them. "It is so… and I shall tell you why, Zira! Because Mufasa does not deserve to sit upon this throne! And he does not deserve to call himself my kin!"

She looked taken aback, though he continued, his momentary passion overtaking him. "You asked for my opinion on Mufasa, and I give it to you—he is no brother of mine! And I would die before I would forgive him… he deserves to die, just like his son!"

There was no need for her to give her opinion on that, at least not in words—the blank, petrified stare that she simply couldn't help spoke volumes more than her words could. He witnessed a rare moment where she was shocked speechless, her pupils mere dots in her skull… and even after that was gone, she still couldn't speak above a blank stammer.

He snorted softly, chest heaving as he tried to control his anger. Already he saw, somewhat foggily, that his words were too harsh for the situation—but alas, at the moment, they'd been a harsh truth, a bitter incarnation of how he had truly felt at the time. Scar wasn't about to recant them.

The dark lion did, however, quickly come to regret his rashness, at least once he saw what held Zira truly so shocked stiff, and agog.

"Oh, is that right…?"

A chill crawled up his spine, a congruously terrified look briefly overpowering him. He would have recognized that voice anywhere. Another shudder later and he found himself hunched over, barely standing, with his tail curled shamefully between his legs. He quickly tried to withdraw his foolish words. But it was too late.

"Mufasa, oh… we were just, I was…" he paused, trying to group together the words on his tongue even though none of them quite came fast enough, "… how lovely of you to be here, on this pleasant morn—"

"SAVE IT, SCAR!" He growled fiercely, his ferocious tone belying something serious indeed… the older lion was in no mood for games. The way he strode over to the baobab, his face locked into a fierce and determined expression, only illustrated that.

"… I didn't come to hear your _slick _excuses." And then, with a biting, ominous note penetrating his voice and his darkened, shadowed visage: "Although I must admit… you have much more _gall _than even_ I_ thought, to dare to speak of me so. Too bad it is wasted on a _coward_."

The younger, loquacious brother stiffened up, at an unusual loss for words for several seconds. His brother's very real, very physical presence was enough for him to quail into silence, at least for the time being.

Mufasa was not in a good mood.

"Ahhhh, but brother, we were just—"

"Don't bother," the king replied flatly, even more disillusioned than usual. Save for the dripping contempt, his tone was almost completely devoid of emotion—which, in Mufasa's case, was _never _a harbinger of good things. "I heard every word."

"But," he continued, "as I said, that is not why I am here."

Nyota strolled quietly from the blanket of grass alongside him, her countenance betraying the fact that she was trying to stay reserved, but was failing. Her puzzled expression showed that she was diffident—Zira cursed sorely from her place. So that was where the whelp had been. Now Mufasa knew of her presence, and had been informed of spirits-knew-what from the little tattle-tale lioness…

"I have things we must discuss, Scar."

Two more lionesses moved from the brush, looking downcast as they hauled a third—a bloody, mangled corpse—alongside the shaman. He was silent, his visage looking regretful, disappointed that he could not protect his family… but, in the end, there was little either of the proud princes could do. Up until now, they had been blind. And now it was too late.

"Brother, the Pridelands are under attack…"

* * *

><p><em>OHHHHHHH, crap. <em>

_Anyways... err... this chapter went a little longer than expected, so I had to keep it to only one scene today. ^^ Next chapter should continue with Mufasa, and believe me, he will not be happy. Also be aware that the desert princess' story is going to be continued soon, so keep that on your radar as well. Uh... what else to say... _

_Errr, just the usual, I guess. Hope you liked it, and... uh... drop a review in. Or a fave and follow. Or both. Especially if you're new. I love to hear from you guys. ^^ I'd also like to hear your thoughts on that one-shot, too, so if you have a few moments and you like my stuff, then go check that out._

_Have a happy Memorial Day!_

_Twin :)_


	48. Last Chance

_**A/N:**_

_It's six in the morning and I haven't slept yet. As it is, I'm not really in the mood to do these ANs, so I'll hurry along._

_Sorry about the wait. I've been busy in other areas of the fandom. That said, though... this chapter was just... really, really, _really _difficult. Like, you have no idea. 8.5k words of mostly dialogue, really deep stuff too... seriously, all those lines of dialogue are tough SOBs, making sure they all flow logically, that all the key lines I wanted are in there, balancing them with description, making sure everyone's in character and that it makes sense for them to say that instead of them being a puppet for me to move the plot along and... blah, yeah, I'm complaining a bit. Especially considering the subject material, it got a bit... emotionally draining. _

_*writer problems*_

_That said, I'm pondering... do you guys even really enjoy this anymore? I mean, I know, on a scale of attention-whorishness that sounds like an 11.5/10, but... eh... maybe I'm just a little rubbed the wrong way since my last two one-shots went almost completely unnoticed. You still like this story, right? I mean... I'd hate to be going along if nobody likes it anymore. As a crazed lion once said, I'm doing this for you... and I'm doing this for me..._

_*Nuka reference FTW*_

_Forgive my talking to myself. Just wishful thinking._

**_Fluffy Hug: _**_Thanks, man. o/ To be completely honest, Scar's pretty much the whole reason I got into fanfiction, so it means a lot to hear that from people. Hope you like this chapter.__  
><em>

**_DancingKitKat:_**_ Yeah, I watched TLKII the other day... and saw the NOT mentally-well-adjusted version of Zira, being insane as she always is. It's almost weird to think that this Zira was based off of... that mess... o.O I guess grief does things to people. _

_And yeah, it's been almost three years, but... *shrug* doesn't feel like it. Even though a lot has changed since that time, as I'm sure you've seen by my writing, at heart this is really just something I do for fun and to develop my craft._

**_SonOfSol: _**_Yep. This fic tends to be an angst magnet. Still, reading it in two hours... impressive achievement. Especially at your (our? xD) age. You deserve a round of applause. I personally don't read for fun hardly at all anymore, hence why I'm not that good at it. :3_

**_Lavender Springwood:_**_ Whoa, man, long time and no see. ^^ And no problem, I appreciate the quality of all your reviews regardless of their quantity. Things like this really brighten my day, and it's nice to know I've improved. That said, you've been improving a lot lately as well, which is why it'd be nice to... well, see more of you (hypocrite alert, ignore me, please). _

_In any case, really great review. It's so great to hear that people relate with Scar and feel what he feels, because in a way, that's how _I've _always felt about him. It's a feeling that's really hard for me to explain... so I figure it's better that I show other people that feeling myself. If that's what I've accomplished, then it's certainly been worth it, because I've always related to Scar in a very deep and very personal way. I wish that more people could see what I see, and in a way, a lot of my stories are an extension of that._

_Regarding your question: Yes, this process has made me very self-aware regarding my writing. I think I've always been a bit self-aware about it, however. When I look back, I know what I did right or wrong, and usually it's the same things I was unsure about when I originally wrote it. That said, I'm at the point now where I just follow my feelings and my first instinct. Turns out it's usually right or, in any case, something I can fix in one quick brush-over once I'm done. I feel like I've become a lot more versatile as well. From what I remember, I really struggled to keep my prose fresh and fluid in the beginning, and dialogue was always hard for me. I think I've improved tremendously in both areas, though. :)_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter. :D_

**_mom:_**_ Hey, thanks. ;) Hope you like this chapter, too._

**_BlackLouie:_**_ I'm happy you're enjoying it! :)_

**_Night-Waker: _**_Like I said, this fic is a huge angst magnet. xD And if we're referencing the movie... well, Mufasa DID show up moments before his son was ripped to pieces by hyenas, so yeah, I'd assume that he has pretty (un)fortunate timing. ;P That said, though, I don't think Scar had anything personal against Simba. I mean, yeah, he found him annoying, but I don't think that alone would have been, even for Scar, enough justification to get rid of him. I doubt his malice went much farther than 'ehhh, he's my brother's, so I may as well get both out of my way'.__  
><em>

_Yup. And Trixie and Rarity would have a party with Pinkie Pie in Trixie's Funhouse with Big Macintosh after his infamous Sweet Apple Massacre. Meanwhile, Cheerilee would use the corpses as fertilizer for her garden. Something tells me that that would not only _totally _happen, but that the gathering of so many like-minded secret murderers would cause something amazing to happen. ;P (PS For those of you who haven't read the fics I just referenced... don't. Seriously. You'll get eye/ear cancer and die painfully. Assuming they don't all hunt you down first. xD)_

**_Fusion Palace:_**_ Hehe, well... I wouldn't consider Scar the main antagonist in this story... trust me, you'll see once everything pans out. ;) But yes, in the movies, both are fantastic villains and, in my opinion, characters in general._

_And no, you're not going insane. She'll continue to play a role in this story so stay tuned and keep reading. :P_

**_pokeking95:_**_ Hey, I feel ya, man. I was pretty busy up until school got out. And now I have to deal with a summer class, summer PE, Drivers' ed... yeah. I would say what I really think, but I feel like there might be some 11 year old here reading through this because they were somehow undeterred by, you know... the violent material and the fact that Simba dies in like the first chapter. So I guess I gotta keep it PG-13. lol_

_Anyways, glad you liked the character interaction in that last one. Addressing your points: well, I know Scar seemed like a coward, but that's pretty close to how I see him canonically. After all, he did the same thing with Simba once he returned. Mostly it's just shock, so don't worry - you'll get to see him be himself and get under Mufasa's skin plenty this chapter. ;) Secondly, with Nyota - well, originally, I was going to have Zira notice and call attention to Nyota's absence, but as I'm sure you're aware, time is very much a struggle in a fic like this with a lot going on at once and a lot of characters to keep track of. I believe I loosely hinted to it, but honestly I'm not surprised if it was too subtle for most people to notice since I barely even had time to mention that she was gone. :s_

_Anyways, thanks for the review. There's quite a bit of angst this chapter, so... try to enjoy it? ;) (No worries about that one review, by the way. Consider it water under the bridge. ^^ It's all in the job description, after all.)_

**_Thundering Buck: _**_Well, seeing as how my dad grew up when comic books were in their hay-day and he drags me to practically every Marvel movie, then... yes. xD That said, Thor was probably one of my favorites, and yes, I absolutely _adore _Loki. He's right next to Scar, in my book. ;p That said, I went to see the second Thor movie, and a lot of the lines between Thor and Sc - I mean Loki - seriously reminded me of this story. I'm just sitting there like... what the hell... did I write this? x3__  
><em>

_Seriously, though. And dat ending. ; - ; *sigh* Anyways, hope you all enjoy! (In case I didn't say that enough already)._

* * *

><p>"You're accusing me of this, aren't you?" A twitch of his ear, and he found his face frozen in dissent. Found the spite, acrid and bitter, covering his features, rearing its head as he exposed his glistening canines. "I fail to see how this is my fault."<p>

"_I was not accusing you_," Mufasa's voice was forceful and remained dark as he tread closer, his heavy paws crunching the grass under him with a trudging step.

"Then leave me out of it," he spat back. "You've made it clear that _this _is _your _kingdom, _Your Majesty_—_you _figure out a way to deal with it." His hackles bristled defensively, a growl forming in his throat to complement the glint burning in his fiery eyes.

Mufasa's tail flicked angrily as he approached the base of the baobab, muscles bunching as he gauged the height of the tree and prepared to leap into it.

"You would do well to remember that this is_ your_ home as well," he corrected, bounding into the branches with a single, graceful move, his barrel-like body rippling beneath his shining golden pelt. "And last I checked," he continued, edging closer, "you _promised _me that you would help me when I needed you… or have you forgotten who you truly owe, _Scar_?"

"I haven't forgotten, Mufasa," a knowing spark lit up in his haggard features as he spoke, now eerily calm. "But it is not you. You never kept your promises—why, then, should I keep mine?"

The king growled forebodingly, the remark clearly hitting a nerve.

"You know that I tried my best. Leave that out of this."

"_Why_?" he snapped, teeth clenching together in a sudden flare of anger. "You promised me that you'd protect me and we _all _know how _THAT _turned out! I nearly _died _because of your stupidity!"

"Such an ungrateful fool!" The golden lion raised his bellowing voice one level below a roar, jaws open wide and offering a clear view of his teeth. "I didn't know what to do!"

"_So you did _nothing_,_ _then?! _Is that not your answer for _everything_, Mufasa?" The younger brother crouched, his limbs sprawled as his claws dug into the bark with a latent ferocity.

"There was nothing I could do and you know it! Be glad you're still alive!"

"No thanks to _you_," he acceded angrily. "I don't care what you say to try to justify yourself, Mufasa. You still left me for _dead_ and that is not something I can just _brush away_." The lion paused, his breath heavy in his throat. And then, with no concealed amount of accusation: "… If you expect me to be _grateful _for all the wrong you and your father have done me, then you are mistaken. Ahadi exiled me… and what did you do, Mufasa? Where _were _you?"

Mufasa roared. It was all he could have done at that moment, to emit that pained, terrible sound, a cry amplified by many long fateful years spent in the metaphorical dark. Still he didn't know who his brother thought he was, to even think to say those things to him. His response was loud, it was hurt, and it was terrifying enough to bring their entire world back into the silent stillness of a savannah dawn.

"… How _dare _you?" he queried, the anger tangible in his voice. The golden lion tried to suppress it, tried to dam back the sentiment roiling up in a violent fury, though the wrought emotions still wavered powerfully in every spoken word. "You don't even know, do you? The _hell _I went through."

The dark lion stood calmly, coolly, his gaze icy and disinterested. He said nothing.

"Not that you would ever even bother to know, not that you would ever even _care _about anyone's plights except your own…" he trembled visibly, the memories no longer minding his mental block as they resurfaced painfully, their shadows playing across the expression on his face. "… But I wept… for _hours_," he gritted his teeth, each syllable requiring visible effort on Mufasa's part. "… When you left. I couldn't sleep… I'd have terrible nightmares of watching you get torn apart before my very eyes, and what could I do? Nothing. All night, every night, I was up, _thinking_ about you, _worrying _over you, more _afraid… _than I'd _ever _been. … Of… _anything_…"

Every muscle was bunched and taut as he recalled the mental torment he'd endured the entire time his brother had been away. Yet to witness that same lion's complete indifference only made it hurt all the more, even now… His entire visage had morphed wildly, the older lion seemingly on the verge of breaking down. But still he continued, his tone faster and ever more passionate.

"All the time I was worried just because_ I_ couldn't be there for _you_. And this is how you pay me back, to make me feel even worse?"

"_That's not my fault,_" the dark lion snapped defensively. "_I wasn't in control of that. _I was barely in control of my life—how can you say that I was in control of _your _feelings?" His canines clicked together ominously, and when he spoke again, it was with a thick edge of spite in his voice. "You were _never _there, Mufasa."

"I_ tried_ to be."

"But you _weren't, _were you? You never visited—!"

"_I did!_"

"What, _twice_?" The venom was tangible in his voice, dripping and oozing and rife in every syllable. "You may as well have _abandoned_ me... right when I _needed you_ the _most_. And yet you wondered why I didn't _leap _back into the pride with _open arms_…" There was a brief, seemingly-pernicious growl there, one turned gritty with unresolved anger… but one also tinged audibly with hurt.

"_You say that _I _am the selfish one. _But tell me, Mufasa… which one of us was _stuck _in a wasteland, _forsaken_ by his own _family_, left in the _cold _to _starve _and _die_? _Which one_ of us had to put up with _months _of being left behind, told to wait _just a little longer _for a salvation that _never came_ for him? _Which one of us_, Mufasa, was so _numbed _from the chilling pain that he just didn't _care_ if he had nothing left to live for anymore?! _Who_ was it?"

He stood, frozen and stiff, his teeth set in a jagged line as he struck a menacing pose, with fur bristling wildly like a fuzzy cuff across his shoulders. But Mufasa was silent for several moments, unable to respond through the grim silence that rendered every word a stubborn stick lying in his throat, impossible to extricate.

And there it was again. The gnawing guilt that he'd tried to ignore. _You had something to do with this_, it said, _you had something to do with who your brother is today. _Never mind that Mufasa had _tried_, never mind that he'd given his _everything_…

"I… couldn't," his words were muted, faint… practically bordering on incoherent. "To protect… needed to protect you."

Scar turned away, teeth gritted, face scrunched into an awkward shape. He suddenly found that he couldn't look his brother in the eye—this certainly was not the sort of conversation he wanted to have. It always came back to the same raw, sore, open wounds…

"And how does _leaving me_ behind… protect me?" He'd tried to sound bitter, and vicious, but his voice faltered noticeably, a note of weakness piquing through his wavering words. The dark lion swallowed uncomfortably, but the sudden, rare burst of outward emotion didn't go away. "_Please.._. I just don't understand," he quavered, the words hanging on the edge of his tongue like a terrible burden. "_Where _were _you, Mufasa?_"

Mufasa looked down, regret flickering in his deep amber eyes. There was no point in hiding this anymore. Not now, not after everything that had happened. He couldn't lie to himself any longer… just like he couldn't lie to his brother.

"You remember when I came. The few times I brought you food, and told you… told you that…" the golden lion squinted his eyes shut, suddenly ashamed, and changed his train of thought, "… do you remember what I said to you?"

"Yes," Scar took a step forward, his head cocked suspiciously as it wore a dubious expression. "You always came, and you talked about how _great _life in the Pridelands was, and how your father always _wished_ he could bring me back… but there was some tripe about how he couldn't revoke what he had said, some protocol nonsense…"

The dark lion left it there, face locked in an outward display of distaste and disdain. But there was something else. Something more subtle. For he noted, only now, that Mufasa had never corrected his use of '_your_' father—a term that he, as his blood brother, had always hated. There was only a rare, silent compliance on Mufasa's part, as though he knew something beyond that, and didn't want his younger sibling to be hurt by it.

But alas, that could not last for long. Already he felt as though he were piecing together what Mufasa was hiding, and he didn't like it at all.

"That was a lie," Mufasa said softly, several strands of auburn mane falling and framing his face. He clawed at the bark, trying not to look at his brother for fear of the reaction he would see. "Life in the Pridelands was terrible during the drought, and our father was… oh, spirits, our father…"

The dark lion's ears flattened, perturbed by the fact that his childhood idol would have deceived him so, regardless of the justification.

"What are you talking about? Why would you lie to me about something like that?"

"He never talked about bringing you back," Mufasa continued, ignoring him. The tone his voice took matched the flicker in his eyes—unavoidably dark, in correspondence to the terrible memories that continued to surface as he recalled the past… "When Mother left, he… well… there was no piecing him back together. Not even I could do that. He said that he'd be damned before he would ever lift your exile. Several times, actually. It disheartened me… but… I still think that maybe on a deep level, he was really only upset that he couldn't protect his family, and he was worried that you would never forgive him…"

"Yes, so that completely justifies leaving me to die instead of even _trying _to make things right, doesn't it?" Scar queried, his voice tangibly bitter. "You don't even have any _proof _of anything you just said, do you?"

"Maybe not, but I still choose to believe the best about my father. He _is_ family."

"_Pffft_, there you go with your good-in-everyone _nonsense_," Scar noticeably scoffed, his temper rising and manifesting itself as an acute, vindictive burn in his ragged, battered chest. He began to pace, lathering his inherent rage. "You know, I never _did _believe those hare-brained _stories_ you kept telling me about life in the Pridelands, and now I see why—they were _all _lies _all _along! You gave me false hope, and _for what?!_ So I could drag on life in the Outlands waiting for when my _family _came to rescue me? Good thing I'm not so foolish now!"

"I didn't want you to forget who _your family_ was, I… didn't want you to feel… _alienated_," the golden lion directed his downcast eyes at his paws in contrition, realizing now how foolish it sounded.

"_Alienated… _that's worth a laugh. Mufasa doesn't want the stray, estranged little brother to feel _alienated_! It's better that he lie to him instead, that will _surely _resolve all of their problems..."

"_Now that's enough_," the golden lion interjected bluntly, his tone quick and incisive. "_Unlike you_, I don't take _pride _in my ability to lie, and you are _certainly _not one to be lecturing me on telling the truth!"

He seethed momentarily, and Scar seemed to relent due to an old, conditioned fear of his elder brother's strength.

"You don't seem to be interested in the whole story, only with _blaming me_, as usual. But in my defense, you truly have no idea what happened after you left, as it was a… _hard time_… for all of us. Even for me, in more ways than you might expect.

"Our father… after Mother died, and you were gone… he was never the same. The kind lion was replaced with, well... I don't really _know_ what it was that he was replaced with, but it was not a good change. He had me taking self-defense classes from dawn to dusk, he wore me down to the _bone_ keeping me busy. I didn't even see _Sarabi _for months, even though I was told so many times that she was to be mine one day. He kept telling me, very forcefully, that if I didn't shape up to be a great king, the whole world would take advantage of me—I don't think he himself even really knew what he was saying, he just used it to take his anger out on everyone. He had the lionesses, some of them my friends, beaten for petty infractions of the rules. He even hit me black and blue for getting wrong answers. It was all so… sudden… unpredictable… I never had any idea of what to expect from him."

_What else is new? He always beat his sons, no questions asked, did he not?_

Scar thought the words, but didn't say them aloud. The revelation that Ahadi would have hit his brother—the old king's pride and joy—seemed off, and instinctively he knew that. He clawed circles in the bark pensively, thinking.

"I don't know if you can understand that," Mufasa pressed his lips together tightly. "I don't know if you can understand what it's like to have someone you look up to, someone you adore, someone you practically _idolize_… turn into a monster. To change so much and so drastically that you can no longer even look them in the eye anymore."

"_Au contraire, Mufasa_," the younger sibling chided softly, waving his finger in the midst of a long, pregnant pause—one that sparked a clairvoyant glint in his irises as he looked upon his older sibling, with a gaze that seemed somewhat… forlorn. "_I know exactly what that is like_…"

He turned away, conspicuously unable to maintain eye contact.

And suddenly something clicked for Mufasa. The silent resentment, the bridled anger. All the emotions that he himself had felt during the latter part of Ahadi's reign… was that what his brother had been feeling about him all this time?

He could only hope not. But then, why…? If any of them had changed, it had been Scar. Mufasa had always tried to be a good king and pride member for his family, whereas his younger sibling had stopped trying after a certain point.

_A certain point. _

The golden lion grimaced, thinking he knew when and where that _certain point _was. And so another pang of guilt assailed his quiescent body.

"I know it seems like I wasn't there, like I abandoned you, but everything I did was solely to protect you. I don't think you understand that."

Scar opened his mouth suddenly in protest, but his older brother silenced him with a sharp motion of his paw and continued.

"When you were first exiled, you probably remember that I came the very next day, as I would have done every day if I could have. But our father… he did not approve. He found it suspicious that I was leaving for those first few days, and after my second or third visit he told me, in no uncertain terms, that he would exile me to the Outlands if I went there without his permission. Luckily, I didn't mention you, but I reckon he had at least some inkling.

"I still tried to come, usually at night. Often I couldn't find you and had to leave for home so I could be back by dawn and our father wouldn't notice. One day I was a bit too late, though—I really wanted to find you since you'd looked so bad the last time I'd seen you—and, in my foolishness, when questioned, I'd admitted that I was visiting you. I thought maybe he would relent and there would be some sympathy. But I was wrong. As you had been.

"He slapped me, hard, with his claws out. Several times. And he told me…" Mufasa swallowed hard, looking deeply bothered by what he was about to say. "… he told me that you were a distraction, and if he caught me going out to visit you again, he would…" he paused, "… he would… go to the Outlands himself and… get rid of you."

"He did_ not_," Scar's ears flattened back in disbelief.

"I'm afraid he did. You see, I wasn't just risking _my_ livelihood and my reputation for you—I was risking _yours_. That's why it had to be that way. Yet still I came to you… and I even stole food for you. I felt terrible, since we were in a drought and we needed it… but as it was, I knew I would have felt even worse if you had starved to death." He sighed, his expression sincere. "And that was simply the way it was, I'm sorry to say. I did what I could."

"_Oh_, of _course _you did," the dark lion snapped, feeling the insuppressible urge to accost him, "because in _this _version of the story, Mufasa is incapable of doing wrong, is he not? Still you continue to lie to me! Why should I be expected to believe you? All the time you tried to _protect _me from the truth, and look what that got me—_nothing!"_

Mufasa growled, his sharp, saber-like canines suddenly showing in a jagged grimace. What was he blathering on about now? Why was he so stubborn, so stuck in a set of foolish ways that had never served any end except that of his detriment? He didn't understand. And still, after all these years, his brother was proving to be still so… _frustrating_.

"I'm not like you, Scar," he countered tetchily through his gritted teeth, "I don't _manipulate _everyone around me for my own gain. What reason would I have to lie to you now?"

"What reason did you have to lie to me _then_, Mufasa? You admit yourself that _you _were untrustworthy!" He snarled, honestly speaking more from hurt than from cold reason, and inevitably doing little more than hurling a wild invective at his older brother, who seemed to grow tired of his indiscriminate, irresponsible attacks.

"You continue to make this worse than it really is. I swear on the Great Kings, I _ought_ to beat some sense into you…" he trailed off, honestly sounding like he pitied him more than he sounded particularly angry, "… all this time has passed and you still don't know who your friends really are."

"What do you expect? All of my so-called _friends _have betrayed me."

"_And whose fault is that_, Scar? Is it mine? Do I need to be blamed _yet again _for _your _shortcomings?" The golden lion sighed bitterly. "I never wanted to betray you… I just wanted to be there for you. Why can't you see that? Why are you so… _blind_…?"

"Maybe I am blind, Mufasa," he snapped. "Because I for one do not see any marks on you, to prove what you've claimed."

"_Don't think_ I don't have scars because of what I've been through… I simply do not allow _my _marks to define me. It is a lesson you would do well to learn from."

"Oh no, Mufasa… you are wrong." His tail flicked, and something about the way he looked in that tree suddenly struck Mufasa as disquieting. The lighting, still quite dim and shadowy, rendered him as a dark blur, cast in shade as he moved furtively behind the towering figure of a nearby branch. He stopped, a single stray beam of sunlight filtering up through the tangle of vegetation, through the dappled leaves… only to glint off of the shiny trails of blood pooling in amorphous shapes across the jagged, gruesome lines of an old, open wound. One that he never should have gotten in the first place, all those months ago…

"_My scars do not prove anything… except that I am stronger than what tried to hurt me_." He offered a sickly grin, the angular lines of his teeth showing as flashes of white amidst the dawning sky, and Mufasa felt his stomach distinctly lurch. He understood what this meant.

"No. You are not." Mufasa bristled defensively, not liking the way that his brother seemed to eye him. "You confuse empathy for weakness. You…" he sighed, relenting.

"Is that all you have to criticize me for, _big brother_?" His voice was saturated with bitter sarcasm. "Because that seems far preferable to _half _of _your _foibles."

"No, that's not all," the eldest seethed, shaking his head. As much as he didn't like pointing out others' faults, his brother needed to see himself from a point of view other than his own. "You've always been _selfish_, and _cowardly_… I just can't believe it took me so long to notice it."

"If I'm cowardly, it's only because I was afraid of _you_, Mufasa!" He snarled, teeth showing for several moments before he sheathed his hostilities with seeming disinterest, only his burning eyes left to prove that he still carried his anger with him. "… _You never even _told _them_, did you?"

"Why should I have? It was all your own doing. You got what you deserved."

"So you'd rather let me _rot _in shame, then, than show me any mercy…" he paused, his claws clicking softly against the bark as the torn, bloody skin around his opened scar glinted in the sun. The remnants, the vestiges, the painful reminders… of a mark Mufasa had given him so many months ago. He sat—silent, grim, statuesque—as he was forced to recall, both before him now and in memory, the sights he would rather leave unseen… of a bloodied brother crumpled before him, on a night that could have well been yesterday's, with innumerable wounds gleaming from the light of many immeasurably cold, milky stars.

Wounds that he himself had doled out without second thought.

Mufasa sighed bitterly, unable to repress the tendrils of regret that wove their way through his body, creeping forth as virulent vines that overtook his system silently. He couldn't take it back. He could only try to justify himself, weakly and helplessly, to his brother… and to his own guilty conscience.

"Scar, please…"

"_And there you go again. _You _were the one who defined who I was by my mistakes_, not me, Mufasa!"

"You asked to be called 'Scar'—!"

"Only because I realized I had changed!" His eyes narrowed angrily. "… There's no use in living in the past, Mufasa. I know what I am now."

The golden king sighed, again looking terribly pained. It was hard for him to admit, but the mere sight of his brother was enough for him to feel so many negative emotions. Hurt, betrayed, disappointed…

… Guilty.

_It's his own fault, I never told him to be this way… if he can't appreciate my efforts, then that's not my problem… I tried so hard. I've been a good brother to him…_

_ Except… no good brother would ever hurt him the way _I _did._

"I see. You feel _sorry _now, don't you?" The dark lion voiced bitterly, his voice tangibly strained. Yet underneath that jaded exterior, his inwardly-malicious side reveled in a shot of bittersweet irony. "You feel bad, now that I'm not the _stupid_, gullible little pest who was easily _manipulated _by everyone."

Mufasa looked up at him, his anger glinting momentarily beneath his hurt pride and his uncharacteristically-slumped figure.

For that lion, oddly enough, had been ten times the brother Scar was now…

"_What happened to you_?" He asked, in a voice so soft and low that there could be no hiding the audible pity in it. "You were my brother, my friend…"

"_I changed_. And Taka… he died…" The dark lion swallowed, briefly unable to hide his overpowering discomfort. "… somewhere else. A long time ago, Mufasa."

"I see that that is so," Mufasa replied in a low tone, attempting to hide his disappointment, his frustration, his own bitter anger… "I see that coming here, and expecting help from _you_…" he was momentarily unable to suppress the sharp, incisive note that wormed its way into his words, "… was just a waste of time."

With a mixture of sadness and anger, Mufasa gazed down at the lionesses who had escorted him, patiently and understandingly, to the tree. The shaman had been called to the scene of the skirmish at Pride Rock, to help heal those wounded by a rogue pack of wild dogs. Now they carried their fallen comrade to her final resting place, where the shaman would perform the ceremonial burial rites. _I didn't come here for my brother_, the king told himself constantly, _my pride is_ _what I need to focus on now… they need me._

He sighed, troubled.

_Scar is right. Taka is long gone… and the brother that I had in him is far beyond saving._

"My king… if it was hyenas, then I will have you know that the two of us were targeted as well. Perhaps it would be good to listen to what I have to say to you, in private…"

The dark lion bristled upon seeing the reaction that befell his brother's visage. Whatever the reason, he didn't seem inclined to appreciate the way Zira was speaking to him. For a moment he seemed still, pensive, thoughtful… but the way he gazed, darkly and fearsomely, at both his younger brother and his companion was concerning in itself. After a moment he spoke, his inward emotions finally bubbling to the surface.

"Yes, Zira, you would like me to listen to you… but as I remember, our time for talking is over. Your hide is still about as welcome here as those of the hyenas." He growled, creeping over towards the lioness menacingly and earning a surprised look from Scar. "Now… give me one reason why I shouldn't _enforce _the terms of your exile!"

"_Exile?!" _The dark lion was unable to keep his teeth hidden as he snarled at her, trying his hardest to conceal his temper… and failing. "You _never told me_ you were _exiled_!"

Zira stammered, feeling threatened, but was interrupted before she could defend herself.

"I am sure there is a lot that this lioness hasn't told you, Scar… and how you seem to know her is questionable in itself." The golden lion towered over the thin, wiry lioness, a contemptuous expression stretching across his maw. "But she seems to have a knack for lying… _especially_ about her _whereabouts_."

His dark brown eyes glinted ominously, in knowing reference to the incident that had led to her banishment in the first place. It provoked a shot of anger in her, to think about that. The entire pride—which wasn't even her own anymore—was in mortal danger, and _this _was how he thought to treat her? Over one _stupid_ cub? Just who did he think he was?

"You would do well to _listen_, Your _Majesty_," she bit at the air, angular face twisted into a look of eerie, barely-contained anger. Her cutting voice had now obviously lost any hint of politeness. "_I _risked everything to come back here, nearly getting killed by a pack of those _damned _mongrels! And you are too stubborn to listen to me _now_?"

"_Well why should I trust you_?" Mufasa's eyes narrowed skeptically upon her ear, a single claw unsheathed as he pointed at it. "You have… that mark…" He growled, having already seen that any lioness with a cut like that was probably Usiku's, and meant trouble.

"I use it to spy on them," she spat simply, not mentioning anything of her and Scar's… connection. In her opinion, it was best that she leave out the part about using the meat he had given her to save his murderous brother from getting mauled to death. So she continued on that note. "… I look like one of them from afar, and _trust me_… you will not like what they are doing. Now would you just _let me_ speak?"

He didn't. In fact, the golden king didn't even let her overt condescension go farther than that, punctuating his thoughts with an angry roar—one loud enough to shake the leaves upon the branches, their dappled undersides quivering like shy, creamy doves huddled together in ragged clumps. Scar and Zira recoiled, their ears ringing in piercing agony. It took several moments for the air to cease vibrating, and only then, after the sound had completely dulled and died away, did Mufasa speak.

"… You have twenty seconds. If you can justify yourself, I will let you go. Otherwise…" he trailed off ominously, "… this is not a time for mercy, Zira. You have already proven that you cannot be trusted."

"Brother, if I may, this is ridiculous. She saved my lif—"

"_You stay out of this_!"

The darker lion pressed his lips together tightly, a spark of resentment flaring in his eyes before he spoke, softly and stubbornly. "Your _thick-headedness_ will hurt your entire pride… _unless you want them to be attacked like _we were."

"Well," the monarch retorted, "I personally do not doubt that one of you had something to do with the hyenas here… especially _you_, Scar, since you seem to have had… _connections _with them in the past. You are in no position to lecture me."

His ears, in response, twisted themselves, coming to lie flat against the nape of his neck, but he remained silent.

"_I had nothing to do with this_!" Zira snarled, before collecting herself. "The hyenas… I believe they are working with Usiku. An attack may be imminent. Please, I know you don't want to hear it from me… but your people cannot stay at Pride Rock."

"They will stay, and that is final," Mufasa's face was relentlessly stern. "Our home is the source of our pride. If we leave it, we stand for nothing. I will not be driven out by the words of a _rogue _lioness." He emphasized the word 'rogue', his bitter sentiment stinging Zira despite herself. "Staying here and staying strong is the only way to prevent another ambush like the one we have already suffered through…"

"Brother, don't be ridiculous. If what she says is true, the entire pride is a sitting duck… and you _know it_."

"But I know what's best for them!" He snapped back. "I am the king, and as you have told me, it is _my _responsibility to ensure their safety. Last I checked, you barely cared for the pride at all!"

"And there is where you are wrong, Mufasa," his face scrunched, showing his teeth. "_The pride _does not care for_ me_. But unless you want this place _overrun_ with hyenas, an idea I presume is distasteful to us both, then I would suggest you _listen_.

"Shenzi is no longer the matriarch, Zamani is, and I know her to be one of the most ruthless, _dogged_ individuals I have ever had the _displeasure _of meeting. She _will not stop_ until you and your pride have _all _paid with _blood_ for extending her exile. She would have no qualms with killing every last Pridelander here and that is why I suggest that you'd _best _be _prepared_, brother. You _will_ regret it if you are not."

"_Is that a_ threat?"

"No," Zira asserted, standing by her companion's words. "It is a promise. Believe me, there are enemies who want you dead, and some have already infiltrated the pride."

"You dare to accuse my subjects of wrongdoing? After what the _both _of you have done?"

"_It is a fact, Mufasa! _I have heard them say so, beyond a doubt. Her name is Hazizidi… and I don't know much else about her, but as we speak she is helping Usiku bring this pride to its knees!"

Even the lionesses below, who had been tasked with helping the shaman prepare for the burial and thus had not been attentive to most of what had happened in the tree, heard her outburst, and seemed to stiffen up at the proposal that there was a traitor amongst them. Their instinctive paranoia burst into view, most of the femmes eying their pride-sisters with headlong, suspicious glances.

The golden king's face, too, stiffened unpleasantly, plagued with thoughts that she may have been right. He had accepted that rogue into the pride… she had been a rather strange one… but, then, her name was not Hazizidi. Nyota had attested to the lioness' name and character. As it was, there was nobody by that name in his pride.

And besides, he would not be proven wrong by a lioness who was a deserter herself. She had no right to call the trustworthiness of any of his lionesses into question. As far as he was concerned, this conversation was over.

"_Get out_, Zira. Just… _go_…"

The skinny, taut-faced lioness looked taken aback, her mouth agape for a short moment. There was shock, bewilderment… but, at the same time, acceptance. She had tried. If the Pridelander pride was obliterated into nothingness, then that was not her fault. Zira was no longer a part of that family, and thus owed them no obligations—aside from, of course, her dedication to Scar, who was just as estranged as she was. There was little point in continuing forwards and risking her life for a pride that would not accept her. She was better off resuming her search for a family alone.

"Fine, then," she couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice, despite the fact that she was mostly indifferent to his callous refusal to listen to her. "Scar, you know where to find me…" With a graceful move, the lioness leapt out of the tree and moved stealthily through the grass, keeping her ears alert for hyenas. Once her tail disappeared, the brothers' attention was again focused on each other.

Scar clenched his teeth, biting back his anger as he addressed him. Somehow, this whole situation was rubbing him the wrong way, and he didn't like one bit of it. "You know, Mufasa… this is just the way _your father_ looked before he died… _stubborn_ until his _dying _breath." He stood stiffly up to him, tail lashing, unaware of the real danger of what he was saying. "I wouldn't be surprised if the hyenas killed you, too, with an attitude like that."

He caught those cupped, golden ears flick and turn, sharply and surely.

"I have to do what I can to protect my family, including… wait…"

The golden lion turned around, his expression quizzical. What was that he had said? About his father?

"The way my father…" Mufasa's eyes narrowed, the king pursing his lips as he tried to piece it together. "… What do you mean by that, Scar?"

He didn't say anything for a long moment. There was only the mad bristling of the fur upon his back to give away the fact that he was frightened. One small outward sign of a feeling that had suddenly gripped his core, sending a terrible shudder shooting up the length of spine, a coldness that froze his entire body… before that same chill melted and trickled down, filling the pit of his stomach with a heavy sense of dread.

"Hearsay," he snapped. "Your father was a stubborn lion."

"_Scar_," Mufasa retorted ominously, not in the mood to banter, "_what do you mean by that_?"

He crept closer, and the darker lion started backing up in hurried steps, unable to hide his anxiety as his hind limbs bumped into the towering, spindly branches of the old baobab, forcing him to face his aggressor.

"How could you know what happened to my father before he died?" Mufasa continued to approach, his pawsteps suitably heavy as a reflection of his suddenly demanding nature. "We didn't find the body for days, we don't even know who killed him…

"And you… You were in the Outlands…" he trailed off, "… or _were _you?"

There was a dark glimmer in his eyes. Scar caught it as it swam, wraith-like, across his brother's visage and flickered there, lighting up the fire beneath his eyes and causing a deep, threatening look to be borne into those steady chestnut irises.

It bore into him. Unrelenting. Unnerving. Once he saw it, he knew that there was no use hiding.

He tried anyways, rather half-heartedly, but as expected, his masquerade didn't go far.

"Mufasa… you look into my words so _seriously_… you must stop twisting them."

"_Then stop with your ruses_." He bit his tongue to stop himself from going farther.

"Fine, fine…" he attempted to chuckle, but all that escaped was a hoarse, strained sound that was aptly indicative of his fear. "He… got what was coming him. The hyenas… they were angry over their exile, they… attacked."

Mufasa pressed his lips together, looking down on his brother with a harsh expression. There was a consistent, gnawing feeling in him… one that told him that Scar had had something to do with Ahadi's death. Otherwise, it all made little sense. How could the hyenas have known where the king of the Pridelands was? He'd been staying the night in a small grotto, a shelter—one he occasionally frequented when he was attending to the kingdom late at night and was unable to return home—and he had presumably been killed in his sleep.

"… I don't believe you."

"_I didn't kill him_," he backed further into the bark, its coarse surface rubbing the base of his tail and abrading the fur and skin there. "If that's what you're implying."

"Then prove it!"

"If I may, brother," his tone was pleading. "I believe I am innocent until proven guil—"

"_Scar, _tell me what you mean, or you'll be sorry for it!"

"_Alright, _alright!" The dark lion swallowed nervously, his throat constricting in a sudden spark of fear. He knew better than to risk a lie when Mufasa was this angry. Besides, the metaphorical cub was out of the bag… what point was there to keep it a secret anymore?

"I… watched him die." Mufasa's eyes grew wide, before he quickly added: "… but it wasn't my choice! The hyenas forced me to tag along!"

"_What?"_

"They told me they wanted me to see what happened to those who got in their way, I… had no other option."

"And you didn't even try to help him? To _warn _him?"

"Well, Mufasa, I…" he gritted his teeth, finding it hard to look his brother in the eye. Alas, he should have known the folly of what he was saying; Ahadi never would have heard it from him, anyways. … But there was something more. Another reason.

With a shaky breath, he returned Mufasa's overpowering gaze with the strongest show of resolve he could… which, as it turned out, wasn't much. After a mere moment he faltered, the words extracting themselves from his throat and sliding into the vast expanse of air against his will, intoned with the same amount of soul as what an automaton could impart to them.

"… I was the one who led them to Ahadi."

He looked downwards, unable and unwilling to see the sudden transformation playing out upon his brother's visage. First a fleeting look of shock, then a look of severe contemplation… and, after that, an unspeakably outraged expression that took a hold of the golden lion's entire face, continuing along the curve of his jaw until every last tooth was in plain, full view.

"_I can't believe what I'm hearing from you…"_

The dark lion knew that dark, eerily quiet tone. It scared him more than hearing Mufasa yell and scream. He _knew _the force, the tacit threat behind those words, and seeing the raw, burning anger displayed so clearly on his face made his stomach drop, made his words heavy with terror…

"Mufasa, hear me out. I was hungry, the hyenas… they were the only reason I didn't starve to death. They exchanged a few of their kills for… favors…"

"_Oh, so you figured you'd just bump him off, just kill him in exchange for _PAYMENT?!"

"It wasn't like that!" He'd tried to sound strong, but his voice wavered audibly. "Even after all the _pain _he'd caused me, I didn't want to _murder _him. You should count yourself _lucky _for that…"

He trailed off, his teeth interlocked in a pained grimace, his eyes scrunched shut to blot out his brother's speechless expression—the one that alternated consistently between fierce rage and heart-rending sorrow.

"… But the hyenas were growing tired of sharing their food with me, they said I wasn't upholding my end of the deal. I feared they would cut me off, or… worse," he looked off over his shoulder, visibly regretful. "I… I was afraid, I wandered into the Pridelands, I… I wasn't sure what I was doing, I was just looking for food, but… I stumbled upon Ahadi, sleeping in that wretched little abode…"

"_And?"_

"_And_…" he croaked, every word difficult to utter as he stopped, strained, his face tense and pleading. "I ran away, I was afraid he'd hurt me, but… then… I saw my chance. Perhaps my last. Time was running out for me… I told the hyenas. They demanded that I help them bring about his demise. So… I did."

"You admit to assisting in the _murder _of your own _FATHER_?" The golden lion cried, his teeth visible and his jaw gaping widely, threateningly…

"I had to, Mufasa…" he cowered under his gaze, visibly frightened, as any sane lion would have been… "you don't understand how desperate I was, I—"

"ENOUGH!"

"But Mufasa—"

"I SAID ENOUGH!"

The king's claws had been out, an eerie premonition in itself considering how rarely he bothered to unsheathe them. Thus it didn't surprise the dark lion to find that those points hurt just as much as they would have if he'd never used them. Their clean, sharp tips easily cut him, the crushing force of Mufasa's paw pushing the claws into him, allowing them to furrow raw, bloody trails across the side of his neck as he struck him. The blow was a massive one, easily enough to knock him down and remove several coarse clumps of mane as well. For even though he had more than expected some sort of physical rebuttal on Mufasa's part, in light of their very conversation, it was still a shock in itself. He didn't even feel the pain at first, merely being left awestruck as he whirled through the air for one long, dazed moment… and landed upon the rough surface of the bark with a terrible _thud…_

He was silent for several seconds, his entire world spinning turbulently. His paw was at the wound instantly, and he regarded it with a confused awe, as though it was another lion's and not his own. Beyond his clouded, blurred vision, left foggy from the sharp smack he'd received, he could see nothing, could hear nothing… he was unaware of his surroundings as he lay there, crumpled like a heap of soiled laundry.

That uncomfortable moment must have lasted too long. It was enough for Mufasa's rage to briefly subside, being replaced with a stray, fraternal note of concern. His visage softened, his lurking emotions going into hiding as he approached the dark lion, his paw nudging his shoulder.

"_Scar…?" _

Mufasa bit his lip. He hadn't wanted to hurt him _seriously._

Had he?

"Scar…?"

He felt the nudge on his shoulder that time, and stiffened. But unfortunately for the elder sibling, his sense of apologetic complacence, of contrition, was draining away, being washed aside by the trickles of blood matting his tangled, raven mane.

A spark of anger, of indignant and virulent emotions as familiar to him as the earth and sky. This. This was the reason why he couldn't forgive Mufasa, the reason he'd felt so estranged from him in the first place.

Mufasa, and others, even, always complained that he pushed everyone away. But this was how they treated him themselves…

_Such hypocrites._

"Are you alright…?"

He felt the third and final nudge on his shoulder, and when he did, it seemed to provoke him past some arbitrary limit. Teeth clenching, his muscles bunched, and, through some previously unknown channel, he was able to tap into some hidden strength. In a single, spry move, his limber body had risen, and in another it was flying towards Mufasa, claws out, teeth bared, expression furious as more blood dribbled across his shoulder and showered the surface below…

Scar wasn't sure what he'd been trying to prove. But he'd caught Mufasa by surprise, and that was what had made all the difference. He sunk his teeth into the lion's back, his claws scraping at any fur he could find. When he did clutch something—a hunk of flesh, perhaps, or a clump of golden pelt—he held on, with a grip more ferocious than a hellion's.

The golden lion roared, stirring up the lionesses below as they witnessed the short-lived assault of their sovereign. He swiped with his claws, but hit nothing…

His face narrowed in determination, nose scrunching willfully. He reared. He turned around, quickly and supplely. And with an equally ferocious bite he found his younger brother's scruff, letting his muzzle clamp down as hard as it could.

Scar's eyes widened, realizing that his brother's teeth were clutching his nape, and that his ill-fated attack would, in all likelihood, not go without punishment. He felt his former victim tug, effectively reversing the roles of assailant and defendant. It didn't take much of Mufasa's strength, it turned out, to rip him away, to send him sailing through the air once again.

If he'd had any time to regret his brash, foolish actions, those thoughts were promptly knocked out of him once he collided with the branch, subsequently dropping to the base of the baobab with a sickening sound that left him utterly stunned and gaping like a fish for breath.

The fight was completely taken out of him. There was little else he could do besides begging for mercy, which, as shameful as that was, would prove necessary.

He heard a crunch. Mufasa's paw traipsing against the bark, his claws rubbing with a frightening sound. The sound of his tail-tuft dragging against the ground like a swift paintbrush as he seethed in anger.

His pupils narrowed, eyes wide in fear.

"Mufasa, please, I'm sorry."

Hasty. Mostly insincere. His elder brother could tell.

"Of course, you're sorry _now_… but I see that I am the one who should be sorry…"

The dark lion's ears pricked.

"Yes. I should be sorry for ever _trusting _you. You and your petty lies…" he sighed, his jaws locked together in a fearsome and yet, to Scar, invisible expression. "You're like a serpent," he concluded, "… the moment I turn my back on you, you _strike_."

A moment of disappointment. Of bewilderment. An embodiment of their estrangement from one another.

"I _want _to forgive you, to overlook your _obvious _flaws, to believe that there is good in you…" his burdened, regretful timbre gave way to a fierce note of contempt, "… but it is _extraordinarily _difficult when you prove me wrong at every turn! When you prove to me that you truly are even more depraved than I could have ever guessed! Every time I try to forgive you, you prove me a _fool!_"

He sighed, openly conflicted in so many ways. He honestly wasn't sure what to think anymore. It was all so… deceptive. Needlessly complicated. Perhaps it really was time to finish it, once and for all…

"_You are right. Taka did die, because of me. Now all that's left is his_ shadow."

Scar lifted his head weakly, mouth agape, just aware and cognizant enough to catch Mufasa glaring at him, with an ineffable pain and torment bound in the confines of his heavy gaze. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him so hurt.

"Get out. You're not welcome here." His voice was strained, though it still possessed an inward power borne out of the conviction and strength of his emotions.

"Mufasa…"

Scar's eyes conveyed his disbelief, flashing as they were with the memories of a thousand torments. Not this. Not _again._

"Save it, _please_." He seemed more tired than angry. "I never would have wanted to exile my own brother… but, then, the lion I see before me is my brother no longer. That lion left me long ago."

The younger lion rose, weakly shaking the dust from his pelt.

"So that is all, then, Mufasa?"

There was a long, hard silence. One formed in the midst of contemplation, of solemn introspection. The air seemed dark, and cold, despite the rising sun and the sense of hope it presumed to instill upon the savannah. He couldn't remember a time he'd seen Mufasa so seemingly apathetic to his fate.

"… I should kill you. Perhaps the wilderness will, if the world knows any concept of _punishment _at all, for you have more than earned that fate. But…" he pressed his lips together, having trouble expressing his feelings with words that did them justice. "I wish Mother had never had you. All the trouble you've caused… you're not worth it. I don't think the damage you've wrought upon me can ever be reversed. Just… leave me. We are done."

"Mufasa—"

"_Done_." His words were slightly more forceful, and though Scar didn't want to admit it, they stung. Deeply. Especially at the mention of Uru. For although his pelt bristled in anger, he didn't snap back. There was no overly vindictive reaction. No overly vengeful doing on his part… only a relenting compliance.

If Mufasa had given up, there was no hope for them any longer.

"I…" he stammered, "I shall do as you ask. Farewell, _big brother_."

He leapt out of the tree before the golden lion could respond, or react. Not that he did—he only sat there, unmoving, unblinking, frozen with the seeming impartiality of a statue. But beneath that mask, beneath that rigid, taut exterior, a single tear was forming, struggling to find its way to the surface of his eye. One formed in memory of the family he had once had. His father. His mother. His… baby brother…

All dead, so long ago. He blinked it away. But not before the words escaped as a whisper upon his lips.

"_Farewell, Taka_."

* * *

><p><em>So, yeah. A lot happens this chapter. We find out that Mufasa gave Scar his scar, Scar finds out that Mufasa wasn't allowed to see him during his exile, Mufasa finds out that Scar was responsible for their father's death, Scar finds out that Zira was exiled, we find out that Mufasa was the one who gave her that meat... (if any of you even remember that thread, since it hasn't even been brought up in like 40 chapters... Px)... and... uh, yeah. This is another major turning point, as we see Scar go off by himself. Things mostly go downhill from here until the climax. I'd give an estimate as to how much longer this fic is going to go, but those are never right so... *shrug* <em>

_Well, it's almost 7. I figure I'll cut my losses, take a shower, and continue on with my day. Sleep is for the weak, brah. :s_

__Review, please? Pretty please?__

- _Twin_


	49. He Loves Me Not

**_A/N:_**

_Well, I was planning on having this out last weekend or even last Friday, but this chapter proved a bit difficult for some reason. If it feels a bit awkward and 'unblended' in the middle, that's because I wrote the latter half of this chapter first, then came back and wrote the beginning because I realized that the ordering didn't quite make sense. As such, this was originally supposed to be two separate scenes, but was then grafted into one. So keep that in mind. Also, I will say that, in this chapter, you will get to see a character who has not been in this story for a while..._

_That said, this marks a very important turning point... as did last chapter and several upcoming chapters. Be aware of that. _

_Lastly, I will say that I'm quite tempted to respond to these reviews drunken-style, since there are so many of them. xP I will also apologize for my note last chapter - I know that probably sounded very ungrateful, and to be honest, I feel very lucky to have a fanbase like you guys. So thanks for all the nice reviews and messages... they mean a lot to me, even if I haven't responded to every one of them yet. /3_

_Reviews._

**_Haraka:_**_ Hey, thanks! It's nice to see you came over from the forum, and I'm really glad that you liked it. :D_

**_Fluffy Hug:_**_ Yes, last chapter was definitely the bombshell chapter. xD I'm glad you liked it though! I hope you like this one._

**_DancingKitKat:_**_ Thank you! They were really difficult, but I'm glad you liked how they turned out. And I kind of have to agree about Zira... even though she's probably my favorite character from TLKII, her "OMG MAAAAAAD!1!" routine is a little much sometimes. -.o So yeah, I tried to round it out a bit._

_And on a completely unrelated note back, yes, I did, and I see you did as well. ;P Now that was like a Disney-villian-gone-good scenario done right, imo. I really related with her character... and now I can only hope that they do something like that with Scar, seeing as he is one of the most popular Disney villains. :] Fingers crossed!_

**_Lavender Springwood: _**_Love the review, as usual! I'm glad it was everything I wanted it to be for you. And yes, I kind of hint to that this chapter... as it turns out, both of them are going to be pretty upset over this, whether they admit to it or not. Oh, and btw... I added that line in last minute. xP I just couldn't leave it out._

_I think you'll really like where this chapter goes. ;) Of course, I'm glad to hear I inspired you to work on AMM some more. I am awaiting the next chapter eagerly... but no rush, though._

**_SonOfSol: _**_Yup, they do. Px Though I do find it funny how you and some others felt bad for Scar, while at least one person said that they felt almost entirely bad for Mufasa. Looks like you guys are a bit torn about that chappie. lol _

_And yes, that would make you only about two or three months younger than me. xD_

_Oh, and don't worry, I already have an end to this story in mind, and to be honest, it's changed very little since I started. Though I think it leaves everything open to a sequel, I will say that (in my opinion) I think it does a pretty decent job of tying everything up conclusively as well. So, sort of a cliffhanger, but not really. :P_

**_mom: _**_Only problem with that is, frankly, the fact that this would probably be way too violent for it to be made into anything Disney-related. I mean, in my eyes it's not that bad... but I still have some pretty blatant stuff in here. And if you look at the spin-off book series TLK:6NA (which was the same kind of deal), it was way lighter in terms of material and differed with its intended audience. Not to mention this story is heavily AU, so it really screws with canon... to such an extent that I really can't see any way for this story to happen within canon. I mean, I literally kill off the main character of the movie in the first chapter. :s_

**_BlackLouie: _**_No problem, I totally understand! Good luck finding one, and even if you fall behind, you're always welcome back. :]_

**_Thundering Buck:_**_ I can imagine how you feel. Augh, that movie... xD Whenever I see a story about conflict and anger and jealousy and redemption between royal siblings now, I always think of this fanfic. lol Glad you liked it, though!_

**_Emerald dreamer96:_**_ I'd say that's a pretty good analysis of the last chapter. :P And yeah, I agree with you... some of his accusations, though they might have some truth in them, were supposed to seem a bit far-fetched, since he was essentially just grasping at straws there. lol_

_And an estimate... hmmm... *thinks*_

_Well, I'm probably wrong (as always), but I'll say... 65 chapters? I think that sounds reasonable, and should easily give me enough space to allow things to happen naturally._

**_Night-Waker:_**_ You know, you're right when you say the guys are all pretty messed up. lol And you are right to worry, they're really going to have to pull themselves together because at this rate I think they're both going to die. :s Something really drastic will have to happen, I think. And no problem about the one-shots, I get lazy when it comes to reviews too. xP As long as you liked them, then that's what counts._

_PS I think Cheerilee would totally win something like that, at least if they were relying on cunning and smarts (if it was just an all-out bloodbath then I guess Big Macintosh since he's probably the strongest brute-force-wise). I mean, really... Cheerilee's grimdark story was actually pretty screwed up. Made me a little afraid of all teachers. And she got away with it too. O.o_

**_tfsfan2:_**_ You bring up a good point, there. He really could have put it all behind him and lived a fairly decent life. But if you read this far you'll see that he's actually pretty damaged psychologically, so I can't imagine it'd be easy for him to move on. I'm glad you liked the first two chapters and I hope you enjoy the rest!_

**_pokeking95:_**_ Hey, no worries. When school got out I didn't want to do... well, anything, really. And now I'm being pressured with three different classes and summer homework and... yeah, now I just want it to be over. Luckily it should be soon, and then I can just focus on preparing for senior year... (wow, and to think I was a freshman when I started this story... o.o). But yeah, I agree about summer school. It really sucks. Although I will admit that I like the summer school class I'm taking more than I thought I would, when added to everything else it's just... too stressful. Especially summer PE. I have about zero motivation for that class. But thanks for the good wishes anyway. :P_

_That said, I'm glad you liked that conflict last chapter, because yes, you did mention you wanted to see them interact more than the chapter before (which, really, was just a teaser). And yes, this is the final stretch. Everything kind of tumbles down until the denouement. As for this chapter, it still focuses on Scar (and Zira), but I'll make sure to highlight what Mufasa is feeling as well. That'll be next chapter. In the meantime, enjoy this one. ;)_

_Regarding the fics: yes, I would be up for some recommendations! I'm assuming you're talking more along the line of Cheerilee's Garden, and less along the lines of Sweet Apple Massacre? lol But yeah, that would be great. :D_

_Enjoy this chappie, everyone!_

_... God, I feel like I've said that a thousand times by now. xP_

* * *

><p>When the dark lion walked, it was harshly and moodily, with outward signs of the emotion he had suppressed for too long.<p>

He trudged through the thick curtains of grass, hearing them crunch and bend under his feet like endless waves receding from his darkened, sweaty figure. His claws sliced unceasingly through the mustard-yellow stalks that cowered beneath his every footstep, cutting them into thin ribbons of drying, wilted vegetation. The earthen brown of his coat matched the soil he walked on—though it, of course, was all but hidden from view under the sea of foliage before him.

Perhaps he'd been walking here to stay hidden. He wasn't sure, but consciously, he knew that danger likely lurked around here somewhere. After all, his sharp eyes had caught that impala pacing anxiously around the baobab, already wounded. No doubt it was a trap from the hyenas, placed so that they could find him—once the smell of blood and freshly-killed meat wafted on the wind, they would know that their target had taken it, and probably wouldn't leave for a long while.

It was smart, and slightly ironic, for them to attempt to use the same tactic that had led to his mother's death, and their exile, on him. At this point, though, he knew better, and paid no mind to the occasional injured animal wandering about the humid and vacuous plains. He avoided them and continued on his way, despite the occasional growl from his empty stomach.

His ears flattened back as he walked, unsure of what he should, or could, do. A part of him was angry, bitter over the fact that this was no longer his home… he would have to deal with the harsh reality of exile once again. This time, though, he wasn't sure he could even cope with it enough to survive, especially if the hyenas were still intent on chasing him…

Alas, he might have considered his old plan of long ago: to go to the gorge and flee south, to the jungle. But a part of him—a larger and more poignant part of him—simply didn't feel in it anymore. Perhaps this fight was not his to win or lose, perhaps it was not his choice…

… Perhaps there was no reason for him to run away anymore. There wasn't much point in him living, anyways. What could he, as one sole lion, possibly do at this point? Mufasa had told him to leave and, thus, it was over now. Truly, irrevocably _over_.

He wasn't sure why that bothered him so much. What had he expected, after all? That Mufasa would keep him in the pride with open arms? No. Surely not. They were too different to coexist… and what, he might have asked, had even been left of their long-ago relationship anyways? There was no hope for them… it would have been silly of him to entertain that idea.

Surely he hadn't, though. Of course not. He'd never thought that he and his brother could be reunited.

… But why, then, did he feel so sad and dissatisfied upon being disbanded from the pride?

The dark lion heard a rustle in the seemingly-endless brush and stiffened instinctively, the hairs upon his spine standing on end and his claws soundlessly sliding out their full lengths as he prepared himself…

"Hey, I know you're in here somewhere."

Again, his ears flattened. He wasn't in the mood for this right now.

"What is it, Zira?"

"Well, well…" she pushed through the last layer of grass separating them, her angular face set in a smirk as it suddenly appeared next to him. "There you are."

"What do you want? You didn't answer my question," the lion snapped, unusually brusque. He took a long stride forwards and began walking, his hackles lowering back down to their normal position. Zira stretched herself and trotted to his side, their shoulders adjacent to each other as she followed him through the savanna.

"I wanted to see you. I heard everything Mufasa said."

"Oh, how wonderful. I'm _so_ glad you listened in."

"No need to be sarcastic about it," her fangs glinted softly underneath her lips, showing her atypically serious and moody demeanor. "What are you planning on doing about this? Your _brother _shoved us away and he's risking the lives of his entire pride."

"What _can _I do about it, Zira?" His pawstep was especially heavy as he trod ahead. "My brother deserves whatever comes to him at this point. Leave it at that."

"Yes, but…" she trotted a few paces upon finding that she was lagging behind. "I've heard and seen what Usiku and the others have been up to. If he refuses to listen to us, then we'll have to find someone who does, and—!"

"—_Zira, _it's not your problem, and it's not mine anymore, either. Damn it all, let the simpleton be!"

The dark lion turned on her suddenly and snarled, his pose low and threatening. She took a step back, allowing several different emotions to play on her face. As usual, her demeanor and countenance belied an apparent indecision, for she was not sure whether to feel bad for him and relent or to keep pushing the point farther.

This day, it seemed, she was not feeling quite so empathetic. So she continued nonchalantly, her tone of voice calmer… almost as though nothing had happened. Which, if Scar was being honest with himself, peeved him considerably.

"You know, you were right… when you said that the pride would be a sitting duck at Pride Rock. We have to go back and tell someone."

He sighed and kept walking, trying to ignore her. It seemed rather odd, after all, that she was far more anxious about what happened to the Pridelands' pride than he was.

"Are you just going to leave them?"

"What does it look like, Zira?" His tone was low and dangerous, and he was unable to suppress the growling note that found its way into his words. "I'm leaving…"

"Fine, then. We can talk about this later," she leapt a few steps in front of him. "Good thing we have each other, prideless though we may be, you know, and…"

"… _Alone, Zira_."

The lioness' eyes snapped back to meet his, her quizzical expression illustrating her stubborn nature.

"Oh. _Well, _then," she snapped, "I guess our bond to each other doesn't mean anything now, does it? … Why do you want to be alone so much?"

"Because I don't particularly want to be accompanied," he retorted, equally quickly. "Our ties are… absolved, I suppose. Just… go home, Zira."

"This _is _my home. And it's about to be destroyed. That's no matter, though… I'll just go and find another, if you need to be _alone _so damn much."

The lion bristled angrily, not inclined to appreciate the tone of voice that she was using with him. It quickly wore at his nerves and, as such, his response was hot and not particularly rational.

"Please… Stop acting like we were ever truly _friends, _Zira. I know you were just pretending, like Mufasa and all those other _liars_. You all hate me and I couldn't care less if all of you ceased being around."

The lioness looked quite taken aback, surprised at this sudden outburst of emotion. Even after all this time, he still couldn't trust her as far as he could fling her… A part of her was angry with him, upset that he would accuse her of merely toying with his emotions. But, at the same time, and in light of his conversation with his brother, she could grasp something of where it came from. That was why, despite everything, she still felt a bit sad for him.

Her emotions, suffice to say, though, were mostly unpleasant—a potent mixture of dejection, of hurt, of frustration, was welling up inside her long-broken soul.

"I wasn't pretending," she managed to utter weakly, her voice strained and obviously betraying her. "It was real. I'm just…" she sighed, finding the words difficult, "… I'm just hurt that you would think that of me. You keep pushing all of your family and friends away from you."

"You abandoned your family too," he snapped. "Don't lecture me."

"I did it because I had no other choice!" Her voice rose desperately, reflecting her apt frustration. "I _had _to leave… but you… you have had so many chances to repair things with your family, and what do you do? You _squander _them."

Zira took in a violent breath, shaking with the sudden effort and intensity of her emotion. In a mere moment she felt bolder, more justified and sure of what she was saying… and more able to express the overpowering emotions she felt with words that would portray them clearly.

"You always make it about you, every time something bad happens. It's just 'oh, woe is me'—well, it's a little frustrating to be around when you always make it everybody else's fault! And I'm tired of it! Mufasa was right to call you selfish; you just need to _grow up_ and move on."

"I_ need to grow up?_" He snapped, his teeth clearly exposed as clean, sharp rows inlaid within his fierce set of jaws. "I think you are the one who needs to grow up, girl! Just because you were abused as a child doesn't mean that you can follow me around like a lost, pathetic whelp!"

The moment he said those words, he regretted it. For that, he could clearly see, had gone too far, and struck a deep chord with her. His words stuck in the still air, stinging the air as though they had been made of acid. The thought of her past bothered her—as it would have bothered him, had he been in her shoes. That much he could see by the look on her face. The emotion there was clear, and the look of betrayal was beyond what he could describe with words.

When she collected herself, in turn, her face was scrunched, with every muscle taut, and her fangs were bared in an expression of fierce anger.

"_You… BASTARD!"_

She smacked him hard in the face, her claws stinging deeply. He gritted his teeth, unable to defend himself.

"_What makes you think that it's okay to say that to me?!" _Her voice was practically a roar, her sudden ferocity scarcely covering her hurt as the beginnings of tears welled up in her bloodshot red eyes. "I told you that so you would _understand me_, not hurt me!"

"Zira," he began uneasily, "don't be hasty, now—"

"—NO! _NO, _I have had _ENOUGH!_" she snarled. "_Just stop with your words—your actions speak louder! _And now I know that you don't give a _DAMN _about _any of us!_"

She leapt away from him, her tail lashing about in virulent emotion as she charged through the grass, stopping only to give one last message:

"I'm leaving, Scar. And this time, I'm not coming back for you!"

He recoiled in shock, not expecting her to leave so readily or so suddenly. His ears flattened back in confusion and frustration, and now, as she was finally leaving him, he finally felt a sharp pang of regret nip him in the chest.

What exactly had he done? He didn't mean it, but then…

She was gone.

"Zira, come back!" He attempted to follow her, vainly and blindly, the swift lioness out of sight already as she left him in the endless sea of grass. His injuries sapped his strength still, and he found it hard to run. "Zira!"

He knew she could hear him, but there was no response. He tried, again and again, but there was nothing. She did not answer to him.

Finally he roared, having had enough of it all. The sound boomed across the savannah, perhaps for miles, though for once he cared not what creature heard his cry. He knew that she would hear that, if nothing else. But the true sharpness, the true acrid nature of his emotions… it would lie forever unrevealed… not only to her, but to everybody else, as well. For it was only once she was out of earshot, her trail all but gone, that he finally snapped, his inner emotions unleashed and his pain laid out clearly for all to see.

"FINE!" He bellowed, his voice more a roar than an actual, coherent mode of speech. "I DON'T NEED YOU!"

The lion took a deep breath, though his anger did not leave him, and as such, he continued.

"_I don't need any of you! I never did!_"

Painfully he took a few awkward steps, his expression violently angry, incredibly temperamental… but, aside from that, stricken with the plague that had never left him, accented with the throes of a terrible sorrow that almost could not be described… but had followed him for as long as he could even remember having feelings…

"I don't need anyone," the words struggled out, choked and stifled by the lump in his throat. "_I will survive on my own_…"

He'd tried to sound steadfast, but the thought wavered and died almost as soon as he'd spoken it, almost as though, by giving it life, he had effectively extinguished the last tendrils of hope that had wavered in his quivering, broken soul.

He had given up the last of his being. There was nothing left any longer… and, as it was, there was no place he could go.

Except, perhaps, for one place…

… For in the midst of his combating and conflicting feelings, there was a moment of clarity. He knew what he had to do now, seeing as he had nothing left. And so he started walking—not out of the kingdom, but to a place so long a part of his conscious memory that he could almost taste the bitter irony in his traveling there…

Alas, the days felt long and hot already, but they were worse when accompanied by stormy mental weather. When the millions of thoughts swarmed like a cloud of locusts under a hot and stifling atmosphere, punctuated with the wild pangs and flashes of emotion that befitted a lost and weary soul, there was little else that could be done but to suffer in silence.

He couldn't think of anything anymore. He only tread forward with a singular purpose, hoping that what he was leaving behind could not catch up anymore, that what he was about to do would settle, once and for all, the distasteful throes of pain he endured when his past came back to bite him. There was sorrow still, but there was also the reassurance of that lone purpose as he dragged the weight of all his emotions behind him, each step a struggle as he wavered through the parched landscape, his paws moving only by the sheer force of the single-minded will that was behind them.

Every muscle smarted and throbbed, his lips dry and cracked under the sun. Each hair was slick with sweat, his forehead dripping, but still he continued, his head hung, his visage shaded as he trudged forward forlornly.

There was no hope left. But he pressed on. And when he neared the lip of the gorge, full to the brim as it was with the painful memories of times he would rather leave forgotten, he knew that this was the end of his story.

The dark lion, Scar, Taka, whoever he was—he descended alone, unmolested and untouched. The cries of the birds echoed down the walls and disappeared, forever lost in the muggy stillness of a place so barren, so empty… that no living soul dared to enter. It was hard to imagine that the spirits themselves, if he believed in them, for he didn't know what to believe anymore, would not forsake this treacherous place. The gods themselves turned their back.

What better place to die, then?

His paws continued with a mind of their own down the maze of rocks, his emotive state grossly stunted and bent. There was scarcely a thought penetrating his solemn mind, save for those that let out a long and lonely cry in the midst of the darkness that he could never escape.

_Just let me go…_

So many souls had suffered and died here. He would not be the first, nor, more than likely, the last of their number. He could only hope that his own soul would not be lost…

_But I've been lost for so long_…

He'd thought he'd had purpose. But that was gone. The only path left for him was the one that led him here, to the bottom for the ravine, to the beginning and the end of his downfall. It was almost ironic, in a way…

He looked left, and he looked right, but there was nobody. There was a nothingness that stretched, perhaps for a few hundred feet, perhaps for parsecs, perhaps until the end of time and space and distance and meaning. It was all gone, all worthless, yet the ground he stood on felt hallowed…

_I don't want to live anymore, if this is all there is_…

When he collapsed, it was as though the weight of the whole world was resting on his shoulders. It was a burden he simply could not bear anymore. There was an exhaustion that seeped, grave and malignant, into the marrow of his bones, weighing him with the force of many foggy days spent in toil and labor and struggle. It was comparable to an anchor, tethering him firmly to the ground as he fell to his knees, and then to his side.

He'd lost his battle. As far as he was concerned, he could, or would, never move again. There had been something inside—a flame, perhaps—that had kept burning through his darkest moments. It had started as a passionate blaze but had dimmed over the years. But now… oh, now there was_ nothing _left. The last, fleeting sparks of vibrant life had been extinguished. All that remained in his heart were embers, cooling in their death with passive acceptance.

Something precious had been buried very deep inside, and now it was no more. It was the fight that had been taken out of him. He lay there, listless, unmoving, unseeing, unthinking. There was only an endless expanse of emptiness, dark and forbidding, that permeated down to the crevices of his soul.

From where he lay, everything was bleak, and gray, and staunched of its color. The sun had gone, and with it everything else had withdrawn into silence, endlessly retreating as a wraith-like stream across the interminable horizon. In its wake, nothing tangible remained.

The only thing that still burned, stoked by the final tendrils of passion that were leaving him, was the dirge that voiced itself inside. A cry so forlorn and solemn, so saturated with despair, that it was all he could feel within that empty, corporeal husk of a shell he lived in…

… _Niko… peke yangu… roho…_

It sounded almost like a prayer, so pleading and desperate…

… _Kuchukua mimi mbali… kuchukua mimi mbali, roho… _

He buried his head within the depths of his paws, as though to blot out the rest of the physical light that trickled through and penetrated the bottom of the ravine… though that was hardly necessary. Night had already fallen. And there was no telling if the sun would ever rise again.

… _Tafadhali, unisikilize…_

The lion, or, rather, what was left of him, squeezed his eyes shut tight, no longer wishing to see the world, or face whatever was held inside it. He had been defeated… and whether in realization of that, or in acceptance of the fate that had finally caught up to him, or perhaps as a delayed response to everything he had endured… he found himself weeping.

_... Nimekosa, roho…_

There were no memories to remind him of the last time he had shed tears. But he hadn't in so long… for too long. His mother had died, and after that, he had not wanted to be weak anymore. He had not wanted to cry, for fear of losing his strength, his will. Crying, he had rationalized, made nothing better. It didn't help… but what was the point anymore? What was the point of concealing, when there was nobody left to even see that he was there, that he existed?

He had lain for so long under so many masks… that even he was no longer sure where he ended, and where his deceptions began…

… But now that the light was gone, he found all those flimsy layers peeling away…

_Tafadhali…_

Another tear trailed off, gently slicking the fur on his face, darkening it with streams of emotion—perhaps all he had left—that were indicative of everything he could feel, before dripping off of his muzzle... one small drop after another. He still lay there, haggard and crestfallen, his head buried. Nobody could see, or hear, the pained sobs that built in his throat, but despite that, he didn't let them out right away. His cries were, for the most part, silent.

He gritted his teeth, as though every tear he released caused physical pain. Perhaps, to him, they did. After all, they were a part of him, bottled up for many long moons, fermented and salty from the buildup of his sorrow, his hurt, his anger. With each one that fell, a part of his being was stripped away with it…

… Or something was stripped away, at least. There was no telling if what he was doing was debasing his self, or restoring it, in a way.

_Unisikilize…_

Finally he broke completely, letting everything he had been holding back go. His chest, which had been rising and falling gently before that point, was seized with a set of spasms, and his throat was locked up in a painful series of coarse, strangled cries.

It felt humiliating at first. Out of habit, he buried his face deeper, trying to hide, though the small remnant of conscious thought that remained knew that it was useless. He was completely, utterly alone. There were no animals scurrying in the gorge endowed with enough sentience to understand the depth of what he was feeling, the importance of what he was doing. And his family, his friends—what friends he had ever had, anyway…

… They had all gone long ago.

And not through happenstance, nor through some terrible tragedy, either, but by his own hand. That was, perhaps, the worst part of it—and he'd known it to be true, to an extent, all along. He'd distanced himself from all of them, as he was too distrusting, too afraid of hurt… and now, in turn, they were too far away for there to be any hope of retaining them.

He knew that he was completely alone, and would continue to be so for whatever else remained of his pitiful life. All he could hope was that it would end soon, and that his death wouldn't be too agonizing. In any case, it wasn't as though it would bring pain to anybody else… more than likely, they would be overjoyed that his pathetic existence had finally been culled from the surface of their beautiful planet. No longer would they have to share the earth with him.

The lion knew he would meet a lonely end, and his corpse would rot, gruesome and vulture-picked, under the suns of many long, passing days. Life would go on, and he would be forgotten. But that sentiment didn't really bother him anymore. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, nothing really bothered him anymore. There was simply a numb passivity that gnawed and tore at him. There was nothing left of him as it was, anyway…

_Kuchukua mimi mbali…_

The last of his exterior faded away, his sobs penetrating the darkness with a latent force that belied his emotion. He wasn't really sure why he was crying, or why he was in pain, anymore… but, then, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Only that he wanted his life to end.

And so it was that he lay there, feeling completely without purpose, without worth, without any belonging… as though there were nothing yet left for him…

_Tafadhali, roho… kuchukua mimi mbali…_

_Kuchukua mimi mbali, roho…_

… _Tafadhali…_

He sobbed, and suddenly, the last of his will, his anger, his driving emotion, his… _ambition_… it all drained away.

_Please… there's nothing left._

The lion sighed, heaving a breath weighted with the burden of his hopelessness.

… _Please…_

And then he heard it, in a voice so soft and ethereal that his chilled, clammy flesh inadvertently crept upon hearing it.

"… _Why do you look so sad?_"

His eyes snapped open, the hair on the back of his neck bristling as he withdrew his gaze from the depths of his paws. So he hadn't been alone in the gorge after all, despite what he had thought…

… Though it wasn't as if the identity of this newcomer made him feel any better, either.

"Please, can I not have a moment of peace to die?"

He faced the glinting eyes of his innermost demon, expecting to see the creature grin with a look of unrestrained malice, or to hurl back some fiery invective… but there was none of that. Rather, there was only a calm, serene expression of placidity, quite unlike anything he had ever seen on him.

"… _I'm sorry, uncle… you were crying out… I thought maybe I could see you. It's been so long…"_

"Not long enough," he snapped, turning away. "If you're going to torment me, then at least hurry and get it over with."

The cub—Simba, as it seemed—frowned deeply, a solid crease forming on his face.

"_I… I don't know what you mean…_" his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "_Why would I want to torment you?"_

"_Are you kidding?" _The dark lion rebutted, his voice strained in the wake of his tears. "You _haunt_ my every dream, many of my waking moments…"

He sighed in bitter defeat.

"I know you want nothing more than vengeance upon me. So go ahead. _Torture_ your murderer for his sins, boy. You are justified in it…"

Simba, or whoever he was, looked genuinely dismayed.

"_You must be mistaken. That wasn't me, uncle… I don't wish anything ill upon you."_

His golden pelt continued to shimmer, as though each hair were made of spun gold, and the strange glow his figure exuded would have put the sun itself to shame. He looked… different, somehow. Wiser, in some way. Still he existed in his cubbish form, his face childlike and his voice notably young in its timbre… but there was a depth to what he said, an aura of experience.

This wasn't the same individual who had been pestering him with questions throughout his life, or running and jumping with an enviable innocence. For this child, this little lion, had, through death, been endowed with an otherworldly sense of understanding that rendered him far more perceptive and sagacious than what he had been before the stampede.

"_It's me, uncle. Simba. Have you forgotten me?_"

He studied the image of his nephew dubiously, still not entirely convinced that this wasn't another ruse being played on him.

"No…" he finally answered, before resting his chin on his paws once again. And then, rather solemnly: "_How could I_? I seem to be incapable of forgetting the past…"

"_I've seen that... and it's a shame. There lies so much ahead…"_

"Then why do you have to constantly remind me of my mistakes?"

"_Oh, uncle…"_

Again, there was that inexplicably clairvoyant glint in his eye that suggested he knew so much more than what it seemed. It was enough to show that this cub was… different… somehow. It appeared, increasingly, that he wasn't the taunting, teasing figure from his nightly terrors after all…

"_I've never meant to…" _he continued, "_that was all your doing…"_

The lion's face fell softly at that revelation.

"… You mean that the Simba I've been seeing…"

"… _Was a doppelgänger. Yes, uncle… You have a very guilty conscience, it seems…"_

"You know, Simba, I…" he gritted his teeth, his emotions still difficult to control as a tear again threatened to form. He blinked it away, though some of the moisture still leaked onto his cheek. "I… I didn't…"

For a moment, all he could do was swallow softly, trying to dissolve the lump in his throat, before finishing softly: "… I didn't mean for you to die. You were… just… you were the only way I…"

He sighed and closed his eyes, finding it incredibly difficult to rationalize his old motives to someone who had been a direct victim, someone who had died because of him…

"I know you must _despise _me for what I did to you…"

The lion found it impossible not to turn away and clench shut his eyes. Needless to say, it was disquieting for him to face what was essentially an embodiment of his innermost guilt. Being in the presence of his victim's spirit made him feel intensely vulnerable… for now the tables had turned, and _he_, the instigator, the killer of this child, was left at his victim's mercy.

It was only a stark reminder that still he had spilled foreign blood—it lay splattered on his paws, caked under his nails, clumped together in his patchy fur… and that thought made his own run cold inside his body.

He was, in light of his mistakes, far from innocent.

"… _And your father_…"

He buried his face in his paws, reminiscing upon just how treacherous of a kin he was… surely there would be no lenience left for him, no forgiveness. After all, who could deserve it less than he did…?

The lion didn't see Simba's expression, but if he had, he would have seen a look of soft, sad regret.

"… _Uncle… uncle… look at me…"_

Simba frowned deeply when Mufasa's brother didn't comply.

"_Uncle, I'll be the first to admit…" _he paused and gathered his words, "… _that what you did surprised us all. I was very disappointed to find out your true feelings towards my father, towards your family… I did look up to you… more than you knew, uncle."_

"_Hmmpt, _me?" he scoffed, not believing it one bit. Slowly he withdrew his head, resting his muzzle wearily upon his chin, "… why would _anybody_ look up to _me_?"

"_Uncle…_" the cub's spirit approached more closely, appearing as a small and wavering, yet dazzlingly bright, figure, "… _I looked up to you because… well… I always thought you were different from the others. I was curious about you, I wanted to know why… but…"_

He noticed the lion's reticent demeanor, and grimaced slightly.

"… _You're one of the most resourceful lions I've ever known, you have a sharp wit… and, as it turns out, uncle, you have a very powerful spirit. You're strong-willed, a little stubborn, charismatic… You have the potential to do much good in this world… if only you were open to it…"_

"Good? Have I ever struck you as a _good_ lion?" His lip twitched faintly in a smirk, "I am sorry if I made it seem that I was… but I do not think that my old ways should be so quick to die, as detestable as they are, Simba."

"_And I, in my turn, do not think that you give yourself enough credit. Please… listen to me… you don't know the pain your family will go through if you do not help. You're all my father has left… and you still care for him. I see very plainly that you do."_

"… Maybe in the _loosest sense _of the term…" he trailed off, then shook himself and continued irritably, "but forget about that. Your father has already made it clear how he thinks of me."

The lion clenched his teeth bitterly, his ears flattening in turn.

"Face it, Simba… nobody would care if I died. All I have in my life is pain… and it's all I've ever given to anybody else."

They sat in silence for several moments, the ethereal figure of the cub flickering like the flame of a candle, waning and waxing in its inconsistent light, glowing with the reflection of a thousand distant suns, a million milky stars shining and twinkling with an everlasting light, one that would remain, with such feverish consistency, for many ardent eons. The sky was alight and alive, and this cub was one small reflection of that. A fallen star, as it was, soon to return.

"_I do not have much time here, uncle… but, then, the only reason I came at all is to tell you that I still have faith in you… for a reason."_

"But why me, Simba?" he looked somewhat shaken, incredulous. "I thought you would hate me…"

"_You're right to question me. Yes, I was hurt, and disappointed… it would be well within my powers to demand vengeance, to haunt you, to make you suffer… but… what good would that do anymore, uncle?"_

"I just… don't understand…" he turned away solemnly, before a sudden thought came to his mind, "… and for spirits' sake, child, aren't you going to call me 'Uncle Scar' like you always used to?"

The cub pressed his lips together, looking as perceptive as always.

"… _I am not sure what name to address you by anymore… and from the looks of things, it seems as though you aren't, either…"_

The dark lion frowned, puzzled by the fact that his old inquisitiveness had been inexplicably replaced with a powerful and deep omniscience.

"… _But soon it will be time for you to decide your name. You must choose between the light of Taka and the darkness of Scar. For your sake, though…" _his face took on a sudden seriousness, "_I hope you choose well, uncle. I do not want you to face endless suffering and pain… and from the way things are going now, that is indeed the risk you run…"_

"But it's too late for me, Simba!" His voice took on a note of desperation, "I am past the point of no return. I am alone… there is no good that I can do, I have nothing else to live for…"

"_Point of no return?_" The cub scoffed as though humored, a brief chuckle punctuating his normally grave demeanor. "_You're so wrong, uncle… you have a lot left to live for. And you've got time. Until you breathe your last, you can still decide your fate… It's not too late for you."_

The cub seemed to be fading slightly, dimming… as though the source of his flame—the stars themselves—were growing cold, were lapsing back into the smoldering embers from which they had been borne.

"Simba, please, don't leave. Help me find my path…" He'd actually staggered to his feet, wishing that the cub could stay a little longer, that he didn't have to be so alone…

"_I cannot do everything, uncle. I can only open the door—you are the one who must pass through."_

The cub seemed to flicker and fade and move away, as though being carried by a transient summer breeze.

"No, Simba, please…" He loped awkwardly, as though hoping to catch up, hoping to move into the stars with him…

"_It's not too late…" _the cub whispered, voice barely audible.

"No! Don't go! Not when you can finally show me the way…"

"_It's not too late…"_

"No…"

Finally he stopped moving, slowing to a lethargic halt. His neck craned downwards, his figure slumped and weathered, as though exhausted. Mentally, and physically, he was. There was still a sadness there, a yearning… but at the same time, borne from one last ethereal susurration, carried on the ephemeral wisps of an otherworldly breeze, there was a note of hope, small and fragile, that germinated inside his broken spirit… and spirits damn him if he ever let it go again.

He still wasn't sure what his purpose was for being alive… but at this point he knew he had to find it. At this point, there was nothing left to lose.

"_It's not too late, uncle… it's never too late…"_

* * *

><p><em>So this is the first time Simba - or the real Simba, anyways - shows up, at least since the first chapter (unless you count his burial or Sarabi's flashback). I don't have that much to say, except that next chapter will focus more on Mufasa, and also wrap up another plot line that you guys liked that began nearly twenty chapters ago... *hinthint* <em>

_Oh, and before I forget, the translation of Scar/Taka's 'prayer'. (I don't know if you noticed, but I never refer to him by name in this chapter, and only Zira calls him 'Scar')._

_"I am alone, spirits. Take me away. Take me away, spirits. Please, hear me. I have sinned, spirits. Please, hear me. Take me away. Please, spirits, take me away. Take me away, spirits, please..."_

_It's supposed to sound kind of repetitive, since he's not exactly thinking rationally, and that was one of his lowest points in the story. I chose to put in Swahili because I thought it would look and sound more forlorn and mysterious. Dunno if it worked or not, or if it would have had a different effect in English. *shrug*_

_Anyways, d__on't forget to review, and have a lovely Monday... as oxymoronic as that sounds... xP_

_- Twin_


	50. Surprise!

_**A/N:**_

_Hey everyone! I know I'm late but, as it turns out, I chose to publish this chappie on this day for a reason. It marks the 2.5-year anniversary of this story! I almost can't believe it, time flies by really fast. ._. Hopefully I'll have it done by the time it's 3. :P But yeah, it's the anniversary chapter /and/ the 50th, obviously, so yes, it's doubly special indeed._

_In order to mark these milestones, I drew up some official designs for some characters, since I'll probably start illustrating next year (hopefully). No guarantees the art will be of that quality, since I'll probably be a lot better by 2015, but... you know, just for reference. The sketches aren't beautiful but you know, whatever. *shrug* You can find the links on my profile.  
><em>

_So many reviews today. ._. Yeah, I'__m definitely reviewing by PM-only once this story is done._

_**SonOfSol: **Hey, glad you liked it! I'm kind of a sucker for angst myself, so... yeah. lol And are you referencing Guardians of the Galaxy? Because I saw that movie and I liked it. :3 _

_PS Yes, there will be a sequel that will go along a bit of a different path. Not going to say too much more. (And no, I'm not doing it because I don't know how to tie up stuff - like I said, they should be able to work independently). Lastly, I will say that being older than someone is weird from my perspective. I was always the young one in school, haha._

**_Haraka:_**_ Thanks! And yeah, I have to admit, seeing Scar crying is just... yeah, not something I would normally imagine, especially in a fanfic. I hope I pulled it off alright without being... you know... one of those people. lol And I'll cover what happened to Mufasa soon, so just wait for that. ;P_

**_mom:_**_ Thanks, mom. :3_

**_Princess Fluffy: _**_Awww, you're very welcome! I'm really glad to hear you say that, I'm glad you liked it. c: And I agree, I feel bad for Zira... though I promise it won't be the last time they interact._

_Thanks for the 10 points by the way! :D (huehue)_

**_pokeking95: _**_Hehe, shouldn't you be asleep by then? XD Although I feel you. It's going to be hard waking up for school. ._. lol But anyway, onto the review... well, glad you liked the drama! Sorry that Scar won't be seeing Zira for a few chapters though, I know you liked them. :/ I agree, though... he can be a bit of a jerk, so perhaps not all surprising._**_  
><em>**

_As far as Simba... yeah, I did realize that. :s I guess it just kind of came out that way, so I'm sorry if I messed his character up a bit. Overall, though, I'm glad you liked it! It does kind of serve as a light in the darkness, I guess. (And yes, that was a Three Days Grace reference! Ten points for being the only one to notice :P). But yeah, I totally get what you mean with the constructive criticism. Thanks for being so respectful about it. o/_

_Anyway, regarding summer stuff... eh, well. Most of it's over now, but I had to take a summer PE (yes, physical education) class, a class for extra Career/Technical Education credits (which ended up being 2D Game Design/Programming, which I actually liked, to be honest), and Driver's Ed. Those are all done, though I still have summer homework for three of my AP classes before school starts next week, so there's that..._

_Regarding MLP: Well, I finally watched the show on Netflix the day I posted the last chapter! And I liked it. I think I've watched like the first ten episodes now. So I'll definitely have to check those out, especially Pages of Harmony (although it might be a while before I do so, as I rarely read fanfic and I'll probably be busy this upcoming year). But thanks for compiling the list! :D_

_PS Sorry about taking forever on our PM thread. I rarely respond to PMs, as you know, but I do better with IMs. Do you perchance have a Skype account? If so, PM me._

**_BlackLouie:_**_ What? ._. I'm really not sure where you got that. Could you please explain? :/ I never wanted it to come off that way._

**_IronicSnap: _**_Haha, that's true. It's a bit of an odd combo, but yes, I do like to reference the first movie slightly in places. Not in a really 'wow-this-is-directly-copied' way like some people on this site tend to do, with their copy-pasted movie script dialogue and what-not, but... yeah, I know you'd understand, what with your quote-slipping and all. :P But yes, Scar did have an epiphany moment. We will just have to see if it sticks with him or if he reverts back to his old ways, and where exactly it will take him. :3__  
><em>

_PS I'm sorry for taking so long on our PM thread. :/ I just haven't been doing too much on this site lately. Do you have a Skype, perchance? If so then PM me and I'll give you my Skype username. I'm on there a lot more and I like IMs better than PMs, personally._

**_Lavender Springwood: _**_Hey there, I'm glad you liked that last chapter! Thanks as always for the review and the compliment (and yes, I know that you're not just saying that, lol).__  
><em>

_I will say, though, that I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I didn't know that about you and the last thing I would want is to do that to my readers. If you want to let me know exactly what it was I did that bugged you, I would be willing to talk about it. :3 But yes, my intent has never been to exclude anyone based on their beliefs or anything like that. I think that people of all walks of life can learn from a good story and get something from it, which is one of the reasons I write, to be honest._

_(Oh, and as far as the Mean Girls reference... I literally watched that movie for the first time the same day you left that review. xD So high-five. lol)_

_But anyway, I'm so glad that you liked that emotional breakdown scene. It was hard to write and I was honestly worried about getting Scar OOC since... well, in the movie I just couldn't see him crying, at all. I have a feeling other people have tried it and... idk, it just seems like it would be a really difficult thing to pull off. But thank you, your words mean a lot. c: Especially these ones._

_"That's what's awesome about your portrayal of Scar. You're able to make a lot of people who cried for Mufasa , think twice about Scar, and pity him when something bad happens to him. That's how insanely good your writing is." That's literally what I've wanted to do the whole time I've been on fanfiction. It makes me really happy to hear that from you. c':_

_I'll respond to our PM thread soon._

**_Night-Waker: _**_Despair Event Horizon? XD I'm going to have to use that one from now on. I mentioned it to my friend and she laughed. lol And indeed, Cheerilee is quite the cold-blooded killer in that one. All in all, I was very impressed with the writing (I read it about a year ago, I think). Have yet to touch the sequel, but... idk, I think the fact that she got away with it and burned the whole building down is one of the most intriguing things about it, imo. So yeah, wondering if that's the case for #2._

**_Emerald dreamer96: _**_Well, glad you liked it, even if you didn't think it was as powerful (*silent sadface* xP). But yeah, I think going through that might make him see some things differently. He still does have some ways to go, though, and... well, he does go through some more pain in the next chapters (not quite as strong emotionally though - that last chapter was like his low point). You never know, though._

**_titansreadfanfiction:_**_ Awww, thank you very much for saying that! I'm glad you liked it. :) And I'm sure you can do as well with your stories if you really put effort into them. Hope you keep reading! We'll have to see what happens to Scar. :P_

_**DancingKitKat: **Indeed, the road to redemption will be long and rocky, but I think that he can do some good. I think Scar is just a really troubled and misunderstood character, not necessarily an evil one, so... you never know. And I'm glad you liked that ghost scene, by the way! :)_

_**British-Villain: **Hey, thanks a lot for the review! I hope you keep reading and catch up to us soon. :) But yeah, I'm really glad you think that, so thank you... compliments like that mean a lot to me._

**_J.F.C.: _**_Hope you continue to enjoy it and read it up to here, then! Glad you liked the first chapter, and welcome to the fandom. c:_

_So yeah. This chapter finishes up with the desert princess arc, but I will warn you, it got quite a bit darker than I originally thought. There's some character death and just... things that happen in this chapter that might be a little frightening. Just a heads-up... (it's nothing personal, desert princess, just need this to happen to you for the story's sake, k? /3)._

* * *

><p>"Mlinda! Mlinda!"<p>

The little cub leapt enthusiastically and charged down the hill, a spurt of sand flying up around her ankles as she leapt and bounded and bounced almost comically next to the canine, her face opened wide in a smile.

"Mlinda, you're here! I didn't think you'd come!" She whirled around excitedly, her tail and her chin almost meeting to form her into a flexible 'o'. "Malai' will be so excited to meet you!"

Her friend laughed a rough, hoarse laugh, his voice seemingly abraded from a long period of disuse and, of course, a generous amount of sand.

"Alright, alright, not too quickly, now. I've been righ' worked like a dog lately."

He wheezed. In the span of a few months, he had grown significantly, now almost being finished with adolescence. Soon, he would be able to hunt with the others, a very serious responsibility that would certainly cut into his free time… but alas, it was merely the truth that all the dogs had come to accept. Being able to provide for his pack was important to him, and a great honor.

In the meantime, however, he was content simply to be here, visiting with his little princess. For despite his growth and their occasionally sporadic contact, their friendship had never lessened. In fact, it seemed that she needed him now more than ever.

A beautiful princess she was growing into, indeed. His almond-shaped ears flicked forwards, framing his fond and friendly expression. She leapt up next to him, placing her paws on his chest.

"Heheheh… easy there, chap." He nudged her gently with his nose, pleased with her excitement. "Don't get too frisky, now."

"Oh, but Mlinda!" She hardly missed a beat. "Malaika's my best friend!"

A momentary pause as she looked at his face, and she quickly caught herself, not wishing to hurt his feelings.

"I mean, she's my best lion friend. You know, from the pride."

"I understand, mate," he smiled and nuzzled her head affectionately with his snout, his long limb momentarily embracing her. And then, seemingly without thinking, he gave her a short lick behind the ear. Just like Kukosa used to…

She frowned deeply, thinking briefly of many foggy memories from a time too distant, of a lion she would always love but who always seemed to be slipping away—farther and farther—with each passing day. Suddenly, she was afraid.

"Mlinda?"

"Yes?"

"You promise you'll still visit when you're all grown up, right?"

"I'll…" his contented expression faded, and he looked suddenly worried himself. "I'll try the best 'at I can. You know that, chap."

She looked up at him, a glimmer of fright sparking in her emerald eyes, darkening her expression with an uncharacteristically grim visage. He could almost see the reminiscence, the recollections swimming across her face, along with her unspoken terrors. Fears of abandonment, fears of destruction, fears of being left alone…

Even now, she was having nightmares, unrelentingly clear to the point of… clairvoyance. They were terrible scenes. Frightening. Of death, of carnage, of… loss.

So many had already left her, and that number would only grow with time. It was a burden that she would struggle with throughout her life.

"Mlinda, I don't want you to leave like Kuki did."

"Ahhh, my princess," his features suddenly reflected a deep regret, etched painfully into his shadowed face. "Not to worry. You know 's well 's I that Kukosa only left so that 'e could help out his family… an' you. So remember 'im for the selfless lion that 'e was."

"I know," she looked downwards at her paws, unmoving. "I just wish it wasn't like that. I want him to come back. And Daddy too."

"Oh, yes, that…" his muzzle contorted into a wrought expression, as he was again faced with the difficult task of explaining such seemingly irrational happenstances to a child. "Now, he… well, as y' know, your father 'n' the others only left t' do justice for what 'appened to Kuachwa. And 'is friends, including your Kuki."

"Yes, but…" she looked up at him, her eyes suddenly glimmering with tears. The cub caught herself, and defiantly tried to wipe them away, "… what if the Southern Pride wasn't responsible for what happened to them? What if we're just hurting more lions for no reason?!" Her nose contorted suddenly, and she whimpered. Yet after a moment, and with increasing urgency, she continued. "What if there's other little cubs like me, or younger ones, like Danny, and then my dad kills their dads and they don't have a family anymore? I wouldn't want that for anyone! I'd feel so sad for them, I hope it's not like that, Mlinda!"

The dog stood agog, momentarily unsure of what to make of her vivid imagination. He felt bad for her, the poor little lioness cub who'd lost her brother, and hadn't seen her father since he and his band of warriors—most of the remaining males, in fact—had gone off on a vengeance trip. Given her mourning for Kukosa, a sentiment that still continued unwaveringly, Mlinda had feared, very deeply and yet very wrongly, that she would become bitter. That she would thirst for revenge. But, oddly enough, it hadn't been like that at all. Even now, at her young age, she had so much… _empathy_. So much wisdom, contained rather unassumingly in an innocent, exuberant exterior.

He sighed. The desert was often cruel to her ilk. Those who showed mercy, compassion, kindness… they did not generally last long. It was a cruel lesson he'd learned, harsh and early. In the months that had passed, he'd already seen his share of bloodshed, staining the endless grains of sand in a ghastly scarlet dye. It was a wonder they were not called the Crimson Deserts.

"My princess…" he stooped to her level and reassured her, lips crinkling in a smile despite her quizzical expression. "… No matter 'at anyone says, do not change for anything. Do y' understand?"

"… Sure, Mlinda, but…?"

"Your family 'as always been a good one, my friend. I do not think that any a' them'd kill an innocent."

The little lioness seemed to accept that answer as an adequate one to ease her troubled mind, and after a few pensive moments of thought she brightened up, frolicking and jumping around as though nothing had happened, a playful giggle burbling from her throat as she momentarily occupied herself with some transient game involving the many grains of sand blowing in the breeze that ruffled, gently and tenderly, her soft, pale pelt.

Until her ears pricked suddenly.

"Whoa, is this Mlinda?"

She stood at the top of the dune, her pale coat shimmering like waves of frothy milk, her tail curled into a soft shape, her sharp eyes glinting with a perceptive, if incisive, air. Malaika. Angel. Though, much to the chagrin of those who had endowed that name upon her, she was far from being such. She was a walking misnomer to those who knew her well.

"You never told me Mlinda was a _wild dog_," she continued, rolling her eyes softly as she descended the sandhill.

"Well…" the princess grinned sheepishly, "… it didn't seem important. He's really nice!"

"Right…" Her expression was dubious at best. And then she added, rather facetiously, "… are you sure your _mom _would approve?"

"My mom's met Mlinda!" She puffed out her chest slightly, looking defensive. "Like I said, he's nice!"

"If you say so…"

The sandy cub quickly turned to Mlinda, looking somewhat apologetic as she acknowledged the dog's silent, duly-hurt expression. "Sorry, she doesn't mean anything by it. She's just like that sometimes."

"It's a'ight," he replied bluntly, a glimmer of frustration wavering deep in his eyes. Malaika, in the meantime, huffed and looked away.

"I'm just making sure you thought this through. You are kinda innocent, I don't want you doing anything stupid. No offense, Mlinda, but I've met some wild dogs before that were_ not_ the type you'd really want to meet…"

"Malai', I'm not naïve," the princess' ears flattened back, bringing a rather offended grimace with it. "I said he's nice and I meant what I said! Now leave him alone!"

"_Alright_, alright! Spirits, you're so defensive. Whatever you want to tell yourself."

There was a long, terse pause for several moments, the two cubs staring at each other and the dog awkwardly standing there, not liking the feeling he had gotten of being unwanted. Suddenly the sandy lioness looked away, obviously biting back tears. Mlinda's ears pricked in surprise.

"… _Malaika, _just _stop _it… p-please… stop…" she whimpered, voice cracking.

"… Oh… wow. Are you _crying_?"

"N-no, I'm n-not," she backed away, using her forearm to wipe at her moist face. "I'm fine." Her voice was firmer, as she didn't want to appear weak in front of her companion… but it didn't hide her glimmering eyes.

"Oh, geez," Malaika grimaced uncomfortably, looking sheepish. "… I didn't mean to make you _cry_. Come on, stop. You know I didn't mean it." The creamy-colored lioness placed her paw on her friend's shoulder, only to have her turn away irritably. "Buck up, come on, I know I sound mean sometimes but you know I care about you."

Mlinda shook his head sadly and took a diffident step over towards the sniffling lioness, offering her a hug as he glared critically at Malaika. Granted, he didn't know her, or the truth of what she was saying, but anybody who made his little princess cry was, in his eyes, automatically taken down a few notches.

Luckily, the creamy femme recognized her mistake, and offered a quick apology.

"Listen, I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I just… didn't know he was a wild dog. I'm sorry." She glanced up at Mlinda quickly, hoping her new acquaintance wouldn't be too offended. He wasn't—it simply wasn't in his nature. The dog just shrugged it off with an indifferent expression, honestly more worried for his younger friend than for himself and his own pride.

As usual, though, she'd bounded back with a surprising quickness, accepting her friend's apology with a brief levity and honestly acting no more grudging than she would have if the entire incident hadn't even happened.

The dog smiled. That was the princess he knew. Sensitive, but thick-skinned. She released Mlinda and spun around again, grinning excitedly as she ran a few quick circles around them.

"Hey, so…" the older cub gestured with a paw, a little unsure of how to react to her companion's ebullience, "… what were we going to do? You said we were going to do something together?"

"Oh. Yes!"

Malaika smirked softly, shaded eyes half-closed beneath her darkened eyelids.

"We're not going to splash in the waterhole again, are we?"

"Well…" The younger cub stopped midstep in her circular march around Mlinda, her face falling briefly. Something about the way her friend asked that question showed that she objected. Not that she hadn't expected that, though. In a way, it was a rather childish undertaking, one that always dirtied them and generally ended with two irate mothers bathing their sopping, muddy coats. It wasn't exactly befitting a princess, not to mention that it was getting quite boring.

Unfortunately, though, she hadn't thought up much else to do.

"I guess we don't have to do that. We could count birds again or something."

"_Count birds again_," Malaika repeated softly, rolling her eyes as she stifled a melodramatic yawn. "_Alright_, sure… we'll count birds again."

The princess frowned dejectedly, her ears flicking to and fro softly. "You don't have any better ideas."

"Hmmpt, sure I do." That creamy tail flicked, and its owner offered a charming grin. "We should go exploring."

_Exploring… _the younger cub mouthed the words, looking diffidently up at a confused Mlinda. "… I… I'm not so sure about that, Malai', I—"

"Oh, come on. Enough of that baby stuff. I swear, you don't know how to have fun…" she offered a fake pout back at her, which was enough to sway the princess slightly.

"Well… I'd _like_ to… but we're kinda not supposed to…"

"You don't always listen to the _rules_, do you? That's no way to live." The lighter cub saw her friend's apparent distress—the confusion that stemmed from the conflict between the duty to her friend, and the duty to her position… "Awww," Malaika cracked a lopsided grin. "Come on, _girl_, no one ever said you had to be a princess _all _the time." She chuckled softly, tapping her on the shoulder with a paw. "So let's go."

"… No, I can't Malaika, I promised my mom…"

"_Uffff,_" she heaved a sigh, turning around in a large circle and grandiosely stepping away. "This is what happens when I invite a scaredy-cat along."

"I'm not scared!" The princess bristled slightly, defensive.

"Then come on! Nobody ever discovered anything locked up inside a den, now did they?" She turned around and sauntered a few steps before pausing. "Didn't think so. But anyway, there's these cool rocks, and…"

"Mlinda can come with us, right?" She cast an anxious glance at her friend, her protector, her other big brother figure… as at the end of the day, she would only go if he went with her. It wasn't that she distrusted Malaika, but sojourns like these simply were not her forte, and she preferred not to go on them alone or with only another cub there for protection.

"I dunno, chap," he mumbled diffidently, "I don't want t' get int' trouble with your mum."

"Oh, come on, nobody's gonna find _out!" _Malaika pawed eagerly at the ground. "C'mon, there's not gonna be too many times where we're gonna get to do this."

"… Alright, I'll go… but Mlinda, I want you to come with me." She glanced up at her friend, with an expression so earnest and pleading that he simply couldn't say no to it. He realized that her relationship with Malaika meant a lot to her—she was simply a little nervous of venturing out.

He pressed his lips together. Now that Kukosa was gone she was next in line to rule, and once she was queen she would have to do a lot of travelling on her own, often for days at a time and with little company, to neighboring prides. She would have to get over her fear of exploring eventually. And if he could help her get there, then he was willing to do it.

After all, that was what friends were for.

… Though, if he was being honest, she felt more like a little sister than just a friend, and thus he realized that, in a way, it was his job to keep her safe. Which, of course, he would do, without qualms. That was simply a code of the pack—he would fight to protect those he loved. And he did, after all, love her, deeply and affectionately. He wouldn't let anything bad happen.

So he acquiesced, despite his initial reluctance.

"Alright, I'll go with you, then."

"Yay!" The princess could barely bridle her excitement as she paced circles around him. "Malaika and Mlinda and me, we're gonna explore!"

The other cub rolled her glistening, ocean-blue eyes, somewhat amused. Her little friend could be so silly sometimes. Despite being only a few weeks her senior, Malaika almost felt like the other lioness was a little sister figure more than anything else.

They walked as a group through the shifting dunes, secretively passing the boundary of the camp that the nomadic pride had claimed temporarily. They moved out of sight of the main dens—a few stray heaps of stone that provided shelter from the sun—as they summited the closest dune and then descended, slowly and carefully.

The princess chewed her lip nervously, not used to being out of sight of the pride, at least without an adult present. She balked somewhat once they had reached the bottom of the enormous mound of sand, seeing all the other dunes spread around and noticing how identical they all looked…

"Malaika…?" she whimpered nervously, though the other lioness cub seemed to be experiencing no inner quandaries regarding what she was doing, and kept venturing forwards confidently.

"C'mon, slow-poke, it's right over here, two dunes down, and… hey, why aren't you moving?"

"A-are you sure?" the younger cub stammered. "We're not going to… get lost, are we?"

"Of course not," her friend replied flatly, as though explaining this were somewhat inane. "Remember, what did I tell you? Use your nose. Flare those nostrils and get a good, strong whiff."

The sandy cub did as she was told, closing her eyes shut tight and breathing in that hot desert air… as well as plenty of grains of sand. She coughed and hacked a few times, but there was no denying—her pride's scent was still relatively strong on the wind, probably because they had been staying relatively stationary in recent weeks.

Because of this exact reason, the queen had insisted that they keep moving, as whoever killed the hunting party might not stop their senseless massacre there… but the popular consensus was to remain in place so that the males who had left could find them as soon as possible, and the queen had eventually swayed due to their concern and her mate's tardiness.

It would be hard to get lost, she realized. So she trusted Malaika's word and put another few steps forwards, beginning their traverse of the next sandhill. But as they approached the summit, now in view of what Malaika had mentioned—a strange and eerie collection of rocks that looked almost like a maze, she had a sudden feeling of apprehension. Something, just… didn't feel right…

"Wow, wouldja look at that? Come on, let's go!"

Malaika bolted down the dune before the princess had time to react and promptly disappeared over the top of the next one. The younger cub panicked momentarily and then took off after her, a spurt of sand flying up as she pushed herself off and away. Mlinda tagged closely behind, but by the time they'd reached the top of the next dune he stopped stiff. Something wasn't right.

"Malaika?" The princess called out, looking to see where her friend was. She'd momentarily disappeared, and her scent wasn't obvious in the tailwind they were in. "Malaika…"

Her diffidence was obvious.

"M-Malai—"

"_Hush!_" Mlinda gripped her hard, his paw over her mouth. The princess was shocked at first, but made no further sound; he released her. "Stay here. I'll find 'er."

His tone was suddenly dark. She knew better than to disobey and get lost.

He left. She was all alone. And suddenly, despite home being only a five minute walk away, she didn't like where this was going. A spark of fear coursed through her spine, the howling of the wind and the quiet shifting of the sand being the only noises to penetrate the deathly stillness.

She whimpered, knowing better than to say anything. But what she saw next made her yelp in fear despite herself.

"Well, well. Whadda we have _here, _Uuaji?"

The princess backed up and wanted to run away, but her muscles were locked up, as though they'd been frozen by a malevolent hand. The two young lions quickly surrounded her, pacing around like hungry sharks in the sea of sand.

"I dunno. Looks like a lost little kitten from the _Desert Pride_."

"Awwww, and such a _cute_ wittle wost _kitten_, too," the first male cooed, drawing uncomfortably close and allowing her, against her will, a nice, full view of his yellowish teeth, his fervid violet eyes, the scars that spoke of violence and bloodshed and chaos. His raven mane, dark for a desert lion, was still budding, but she knew better than to underestimate him.

These were the rogues that roamed the desert. And when she realized this, her heart fell.

What were they doing so close to the pride? Normally they would've known better, they would've stayed away…

The wind shifted suddenly. Her pupils narrowed to mere dots as she realized. It wasn't just them. There was a group. And then she knew what this was. They were going to attack her pride.

She backed away, paralyzed with terror.

"Hey, come on kitten, don't you want to _play?_" The first male, who was noticeably the bigger one of the two, continued to approach her, much to her disgust.

"N-N-No-no-no, th-th-thank you." She was petrified, her tail wedged between her legs. The other male's face, previously amused, showed a harder expression.

"Come on, Machi', we don't have time for this. The winds are changing. Kill the little runt and let's get on with the plan." His amber eyes showed impatience, but also a note of… was that revulsion?

"Uuaji, please, there's never too little time to play," he crooned. "We can't get too close just yet. In the meantime, I just want to have a little _fun _with this one."

Uuaji rolled his eyes and averted his steely gaze, keeping close watch lest a lioness from the pride came walking over the dune and discovered them. His sandy pelt and brown mane flapped in the wind like a flag, a banner forecasting bloodshed and the conquering of a long-resented enemy…

The first lion finally put his paw around her, claws drawing blood as he stroked her side, drawing her closer. She squirmed, but her strength was not comparable to the lion's, and thus she had no choice but to writhe weakly as he withdrew a long, pink tongue and gave her a lick across the side of her face, slicking the fur of her cheek up into an odd, spiked position.

"C'mon, kitten, don't be such a tease. It makes me _angry…_" his fake, overly-sweet tone melted in wrath, his claws again piercing her hide as they kneaded into her, almost as though she were an inanimate doll, a mere plaything intended for brief and transient pleasure before being soiled and tossed out carelessly.

Her heart pounded in her chest, something in her churning stomach making her feel as though her insides were made of lead. She didn't like where this was going…

"Hey! You!" The caught princess looked back to see Malaika, bristling and snarling and charging fearlessly up the dune, clearly without thought to her own safety. Effortlessly the little brave femme leapt up, doling the male a brisk swipe across his eye in fierce anger. Uuaji, who had been standing watch, didn't have time to react to his companion recoiling in pain and letting out an angry sound—something one step below a roar.

They looked back to see both cubs gone. Both lions cast a quick glance around, only to see them making their escape in the opposite direction.

"I told you to _kill _her, dammit! We can't let them blow our cover!"

The older lion rubbed his face with a paw, his expression determinedly angry. "You're right… let's go hunting. Come on!"

They ran after their trail—Malaika and the princess, in the meantime, were trying to return to the pride as quickly as possible, thoughts storming through their minds in a synchronous display of terror. They had to get home, they had to warn their family, they had to get home…

The cubs barreled up the slope as skillfully as they could, but the flowing grains of sand were still too much for them to navigate quickly and efficiently. Their taut muscles, already sore and screaming in the heat and exertion, could barely propel their sweaty bodies up the hill.

Malaika was doing better, but she didn't want to leave her friend behind. And as the princess tripped yet again on the dune, struggling in panic, she had no choice but to stop, nudging her to her paws with a latent urgency.

They'd had a head start. But that was rapidly dwindling. The two males—fit and fast and lean—were closing in with a dangerous quickness, and they weren't playing games anymore.

There was no way for them to make it in time.

"Quick," Malaika nudged her younger friend, making a momentary decision, "this way." She bolted back down and off to the side, shooting across the dune with a lightning quickness. The princess didn't dare to question her. The leader of the two ran around the corner of the hill, momentarily losing sight of the lions pursuing them. That was long enough for her to motion towards a small outcrop of rocks.

She waited until the princess had crawled into a crevice in the rock, and was about to follow suit when she cast a glance over her shoulder. Their attackers were rounding the corner and were now within sight. Malaika didn't want them to find her friend…

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for getting you into this."

"What? What do you mea—?"

"One of us has to warn our family. I'll distract them long enough, but you gotta get back, okay? Take care of my brother for me."

"No, Malaika!"

The cub didn't pay any attention after that. She bolted out conspicuously into the open, not even bothering to head towards the pride. Rather, she was leading them away, trying to divert the storm before it was too late, to save the pride from the center of the whirlwind that had been created. The princess watched with horror as the smaller, younger, more methodical male went after her, catching up quick with long, easy strides.

He was only a few body lengths away. Malaika's face twisted into a rare show of fear as her assailant closed in, his body sweaty and his vibrant eyes flickering determinedly. He looked ready to pounce.

They disappeared behind the crest of the next dune.

She didn't see them anymore.

The little lioness stayed huddled under the rock, barely able to process what had happened, barely able to think or breathe or move. Her heart thumped, crashing against her heaving sides, pounding at her ribs so hard that she thought her pulse alone might shatter them.

Oh, that the moon might bless her… did this happen? Was this really happening? Was she really in danger?

She wasn't sure. Everything was surreal. Blurred. Flip-floppy. The princess took a shaky breath and was about to step out, being reminded of her purpose and hoping, despite her fears and doubts, that her friend's sacrifice—as perverse as that sounded—might not be in vain.

Yes, she was about to retreat from her hidden sanctuary… but once she saw the other male, the crazed one, the one with the violet eyes, whatever courage she had had quavered and dropped, now an utterly dead weight inside her chest. He hadn't forgotten the second cub. And his task, she knew, would be to find and kill that cub, to leave no loose ends. She cowered deep into her cove, hoping that he would go away. But the wind, which had been blowing in a fairly consistent direction, was not in her favor…

She stiffened in raw, pure, visceral _horror _as he crept closer, his teeth exposed in a shining grin, eyes scanning closely. He knew she was around somewhere, and that she was listening.

Never would she ever forget that smile as long as she lived. If it was even to be that much longer.

"Here, kitty, kitty… just come out and play for a bit. I promise it won't hurt," his ten claws popped out with an audible, frightening sound, "… _much_…"

The terrified little cub swallowed, her throat tangibly constricting and stifling the pained whimper growing there. She quickly found her tail tip and bit down on it hard, hoping that it would muffle any sound she made. Even her breathing she tried to control, afraid as she was of it, and her heartbeat, giving her away.

Moments passed. Only the rush of the wind, and the abrasion of the sand against the surface of the rocks, could be heard from inside her protective alcove.

She lost sight of him for a few moments. Her grip on her tail loosened slightly.

"… _No need to panic_." She couldn't suppress a gasp as his voice again resurfaced, this time even closer than before, "you won't live long enough to see your whole family _struggle _and _suffer _and _pay _for their sins."

She heard the sounds of claws against rock. The clicking of his digits, the discreet almost-silence of a single footstep. Finally she heard a distinct smack, the sound of his paw as it sent a single pebble skittering. It bounced and bounded, skipping across the outcrop.

The little stone came to rest inches from the opening.

Another unbearable silence. And then breathing, low and heavy, growing closer with each passing second.

Her heart rate rose beyond control, the sound of it reverberating between her ears. Everything shook. And the next thing she saw—as well as the last thing she would ever see, if this went the way she feared it would—was his grinning maw moving, with a painful stillness, down to her level. He'd found his helpless victim. His eyes bore into her, and he had to suppress a pleasurable peal of mirth.

"… _There _you are…"

He seemed to drink in her momentary terror. She crawled to get away from him, but there was no backing up. Finally, at long last, she gave in, her entire body going slack as she momentarily lost control of her bowels.

She was too frightened to even feel humiliated—the soon-to-be-ex-princess only quavered, in a manner so violent that she couldn't even see straight. The paw started to grope about in the darkness, claws closing in on her flesh. She winced and shrunk back… if only the alcove had reached farther back, she could've wriggled away… but no, it was not meant to be.

This was the end for her, then. She tried to brace herself…

… When all of a sudden, and seemingly from nowhere, as though borne from the desert sand itself, her protector appeared, more angry than she could've ever remembered seeing him.

Mlinda. His lithe body closed in with an uncharacteristic ruthlessness, the young dog going straight for the throat of the large, aggressive lion. His surprising move had been just enough to give him a momentary advantage as he gnawed on his mane, trying to sever the jugular of this galling attacker.

She rooted for him, in her mind, but she knew he didn't stand a chance. He was one lone dog, and at this point, he was all she had left against a cutthroat, muscled rogue. A lion who was nearly fully grown and easily several times his size. It was a useless fight, and the way his eyes gleamed as he held on, as he tried and tried to bite down, to pierce that toughened, sun-tanned hide…

He knew.

But he leapt in anyway, valiantly. He knew the consequences, but he accepted them because he cared for her, as Kukosa had. And he knew that this was the only way for her to survive.

Finally the turning point that the two of them had been expecting came, the lion knocking the canine down with a crushing blow that came down hard on his skull. The cub winced in pain for him as he yelped, releasing his grip and falling to the ground, seemingly helpless.

The lion whirled around again, obviously going for a deathblow. But unfortunately for him, Mlinda, though stunned, was just able to dodge the swipe spryly, his sweat-slicked body gleaming in the sun as he panted, obviously now in a fight just to stay alive.

He'd backed up a few paces, hoping to draw the male far enough away so that his princess could escape. And all the while, he'd bristled, his hackles like spikes as he growled viciously, each tooth in plain view.

The one glance he spared to his young friend spoke all the words that she needed to hear.

_Go on, my little princess… I can't hold him off much longer…_

She pressed her lips together, biting back tears. She nodded in understanding, mentally giving him a soft note of thanks, of inexpressible gratitude.

He didn't see it. But she complied with his wishes, wriggling soundlessly out of the rocks and bolting while the male's back was turned. For several moments she didn't dare look back, simply muttering a silent prayer as she bolted up the dune, knowing that once she reached the top she would be in sight of the pride…

_Just reach the top, you'll be safe, don't look back, come on…_

She edged closer to the summit, and was ready to duck over it and disappear when she heard the sound.

It was like a whimper, but louder, magnified with the throes of terrible pain. Perhaps it was closer to a yelp, though the way it was warped and distorted made it quite unlike any yelp, or indeed any other vaguely canine sound, she had ever heard.

Something about it made her blood curdle.

She looked back just long enough to see Mlinda sprawled on the ground, the deep slit that now crossed his flank visible as the male pinned him. The dog struggled, and she could just see, amidst the growing spot of crimson marring the otherwise uniformly-colored surface of the sand, several bloody loops of intestine slipping out like gory sausages from his opened frame.

Her eyes widened, her entire being absolutely agog in horror as she watched her best friend writhe around like a gutted fish on the desert floor. She continued watching just long enough to see the male clamp his jaws around the dog's throat.

She could hear the sounds of flesh tearing, even from her vantage point, and she shuddered.

Mlinda promptly stopped moving.

His attacker turned around, proudly holding a large scrap of flesh within his bloody jaws. His eyes met with the princess, though he ceased pursuing her. There was no need for him to do so. His message had been clearly sent—she, and the rest of her family, would all die in the end, through similar means. There was little use in running.

But she did it anyway, her paws pounding against the sand. Down that dune, up another, down the next… she didn't even know anymore. She didn't even know anything anymore. All she was aware of was the flowing of sand, hot and pelting, across her hide. The next moment she was aware she was running, distressed and breathless, into the camp, amidst the lionesses who had been minding their own duties.

She said something. She wasn't sure what. Something about an attack. _'They killed Mlinda_', she cried, her voice forceful in the midst of the tears that were suddenly staining her cheeks. She mentioned Malaika. Her mother looked at her concernedly, and suddenly she understood.

"Girls, get to your positions! We've got attackers coming!"

She looked at the cub, her daughter, and tried to speak to her. The princess barely comprehended. All she knew was that she had to go with her aunt Rehema, that she would gather the cubs and hide them.

The princess was a cub still, however much this day would seem to change that in her eyes. She scampered off to one of the dens—a small one, just big enough to wriggle into, and well-removed from the rest of the camp. She saw her close family there: her aunt was sitting up silently, along with a few of her younger cousins and her little brother, who was sleeping in her arms, placidly unaware that anything was amiss.

Malaika was not amongst them.

She frowned in dismay and trotted fretfully towards the back, curling against the arms of the adult lioness, her ears flattened and her tail pressed close against her side. In light of everything, she was deeply afraid… as she should have been.

Moments passed in deathly silence before she heard the roar. First it was one, but then it multiplied and spread and grew in its virulent, belligerent intensity. She would've been surprised if the noise weren't enough to shake the very landscape, the very dunes themselves… they reverberated in the air for so long…

She then proceeded to hear cries. Death cries. Cries of pain. She curled deeper into the lioness next to her.

The babe in her arms awoke, letting out a cry. Promptly she tried to calm him, knowing that there would likely be a male sent specifically to find them. That is, unless the battle was turning in their favor…

The noise outside soon stopped. There was an eerie silence, rather like that of a gravesite. They heard nothing but the omnipresent howl of the wind once again…

Was the fight over? Were their people victorious?

The princess' ears pricked slightly. Perhaps they'd vanquished these intruders, perhaps her mother was looking for them right now. She tried to get a whiff of the outside air, to see if this was the case… but already she could smell nothing under the thick odor of blood that permeated the inside of the cavern.

When she heard the footsteps, she was confused, though oddly hopeful. That is, until she heard the voices, deep and gruff and with no hint of leniency in them.

Her heart jumped into her throat. Where was her mother? Where were the others?

"Yeah, I think they're around her somewhere, Kuch'."

More indistinguishable words. The sound of her pulse rose profoundly as she ducked down, trying to hide. The footsteps approached, they closed in with a dark, heavy sound…

But the invisible male still didn't seem quite so sure of himself. He paused several times, no doubt scanning closely, trying to find the entrance to the den that the pride used to hide their young.

He finally reached the entrance of the den, but then kept walking.

The princess let her tailtip fall from her mouth, unaware that she'd even been biting on it, and sighed gently. It seemed that the rogue was now moving farther away… perhaps their family would come, perhaps their mother would bring them to safety and—

"_Meeew… mewl… m-YOWL…"_

_Oh, no…_

"_Danny, hush!" _she promptly clasped a paw over her little brother's mouth, the lioness trying to soothe him frantically. The little cub seemed to stop groggily, as though only half-aware of what was happening, though the fraught look in her aunt's eye reflected the full danger of the situation.

The beats of the rogue's paws against the sand stopped. Everybody held their collective breath… that is, until they heard those footsteps once again resume, tracking closer and closer to their hiding place.

He'd heard them.

The princess gasped in shock, her fur bristling. Now what? What was going to happen now? What could possibly stop this? What were they going to do?

Her aunt looked frantically around, before she suddenly got the hints of an idea. The young cub in her arms, and the ones only slightly older—her children—huddled against her side… they would never stand a chance on their own. But she looked at her niece, the one who was fully aware of what was happening and clearly scared out of her skin… the one who would soon be in adolescence, and had already trained with her mother on how to be a good leader…

There may not have been a chance for herself, or the other adults. And she had no doubt, as frightening as it was, that the rest of the pride, including her sister, was dead. This lioness cub could be their last hope, their last chance for a survivor. If their princess could just crawl through that gap to the side, maybe she could wriggle out, maybe she could escape, and then…

They were long odds. But they weren't zero odds. And so she addressed the oldest cub there, who was again on the verge of tears. She didn't have much time.

"Niece, listen. You have to go."

The princess was breathing heavily, barely able to see clearly in her terror.

"I-I-I can't, I-I…"

"_Nyota, listen to me! _You need to pull yourself together!" she looked at her sternly, face unbearably urgent.

"_But I can't_," she whispered, trembling softly.

"_You can. _I know you can. Now listen to what you need to do. You're the only one who can do this, do you understand?"

She heard the pounding of feet come closer, and nodded hesitantly.

"I want you to escape out that side entrance. _Run _as _far_ and as _fast_ as you can. Don't stop and don't look back for anything. The moon will guide you to safety... that is, if it still cares for us at all."

The male was only a few feet away at this point, and would no doubt start to dig at the entrance soon. She spared her niece a quick, affectionate lick behind the ear for good luck… and a silent prayer that only she would hear.

"_Watu wetu akubariki, mtoto…"_

She nodded gravely. There was no time left. Nyota, the princess of this land, now a refugee and perhaps the only one who would survive this massacre… she approached the gap in the rock. It was small, even for her, and she had to struggle to get through it. First her head popped through, relatively easily, and she could see nobody outside. There was nothing but the sand that wavered, violated with the metallic scent of blood and utterly drenched in carnage.

She remained halfway through the exit for several moments, her front paws digging at the sand, without much luck, as her hind limbs kicked and wriggled wildly. The little lioness tightened the muscles around her stomach as much as possible, the rock pressing uncomfortably against her ribs. Was she stuck?

Finally she grunted and gave a few more efforts, contorting her body at angles that verged on unnatural. Her lithe feline body slid through the rest of the gap, and she shook herself of the sand that had gathered on the top of her head and inside her ears…

And then, without thinking too much more, she ran. To where, she didn't know… she didn't even think she would get out of this alive. She was running away from a horde of aggressive males, powerful enough to kill her whole pride. If it weren't for the bloodshed pilfering the air, it was quite certain they would've detected her presence and killed her off quickly.

She made it to the top of the dune and stopped, breathing hard. The voice of her aunt played in the back of her mind, the words still fresh and recent.

_Don't stop… don't look back for anything…_

She wanted to descend as quickly as possible. But her curiosity got the better of her. She cast one last look behind her, at the home that she had once had, only to see the vision that would haunt her for the rest of her life. The dead bodies of her friends, of her family, of everyone that she had known from birth. They were strewn about uselessly, like rags, their bodies opened and violated in various ways. Some lay there with slits across their throats—others were without heads entirely. A few remained alive, if barely, though the way they weakly struggled to push their guts back in meant that there wasn't much time left for them.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Perhaps she would've taken in the scene forever, or tried to find her mother in the carnage, but all of a sudden she heard the screams from the den. The voice of her aunt, the cries of her brother… before they were all suddenly silenced. She gasped, and finally looked away, not wishing to see any more.

Nyota kept running. And she didn't look back again.

* * *

><p>The lioness paced quietly amongst the promontory of Pride Rock, finding that the fresh air she had told everyone she was leaving for wasn't quite doing anything to soothe the memories. If anything, coming out after having that nightmare had only made her relive the entire scene all over again.<p>

She was tired of it. And she feared, above all, that the same thing would happen here, that her bad luck would follow her, that everything she had done was for nothing…

If she didn't unite the king with his family, he would only lay there listlessly. As it was, he was condemning them without his knowledge, telling them they could not leave Pride Rock… as her mother had mistakenly done. He didn't realize, she knew, the trouble he was bringing to the land. And if she couldn't bring his brother back, and convince them to work together, she wasn't sure what would happen.

She sighed. The younger brother was gone now, though, likely forever. What could she do now? What could she ever have done, as powerless as she was? She was solely a wanderer, an indigent roaming forever beneath a cold and uncaring moon.

Above all she wondered… would she have to run again?

Nyota closed her eyes, pushing those thoughts away. She knew what she had to do, as ridiculous as it was… or, at the very least, she had to try. If she failed, then… well, perhaps it simply was not meant to be.

"Kama unaweza kusikia ombi langu ... tafadhali msaada…"

She sighed. The cloudy sky blotted out the moon, so she could see nothing. Not that it mattered, anyway… it was always silent, and she could light her own path, anyway. All she could hope was that they would understand. That if she deserted, it was not because she was a coward… but because she couldn't let what happened in the past happen again. Not to someone like Mufasa. Not him.

Slowly and stealthily, Nyota walked off the rock and into the grass, leaving Pride Rock behind. A part of her wanted to look back, but she knew she couldn't. She'd learned her lesson. If she came back, it would not be until she was successful.

In the midst of the cold determination, though, there was a prick of affection as she thought of them, her new family. The ones who had taken her in after all that anguish, all that torment…

But at the same time, it couldn't quite erase the pain, the memories of what came before. It could only ease them. She would always be a foreigner at heart.

"You know, Mufasa," she whispered to herself, "I used to think that you could choose your family, through your friends. But now… now I'm not so sure. Please don't forget."

She disappeared through the curtain of grass.

He would not see her again for a long time.

* * *

><p><em>Yeah, yeah, I ended all mysterious like. Sue me. * - * Anyway... yeah, I was going to get into Mufasa's thoughts this chapter, but tbh this chapter was taking a while. I wrote most of it in the last day or two for the purpose of having it out today specifically so... yeah. But since I feel I've neglected him more than is due, I will be sure to get to him in the near future. <em>

_Be sure to leave your comments and take a look at the fanart (again, links will be posted on my profile in the announcements section, and eventually in the section on this story). Oh, and before I go, translations._

_Uuaji - "murder"_

_Machi (short for Machinjo) - "slaughter"_

_Kuchi (short for Kuchinjwa) - "to slaughter/slit one's throat"_

_Rehema - "mercy"_

_What can I say? Dark names for a dark chapter. And here's the translations of their words._

_Rehema - "Our people bless you, child"_

_Nyota - "If you can hear my plea, please help"_

_Peace! Twin is over and out._

_~GG_


End file.
